


Righting the Scales

by Selfmanic



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Coulson, Dom/sub, Fix-It of Sorts, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Light BDSM, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2019-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selfmanic/pseuds/Selfmanic
Summary: Clint is in a D/S relationship with Coulson that started when he joined Shield. He doesn't know how to cope once he finds out Coulson died in a battle he was on the wrong side of, mind control or not.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Original Character, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Comments: 9
Kudos: 66





	1. Requirements of Duty

Clint moved through the plane trying to get his stiff muscles to unkink. He knew what Agent Coulson would require of him when he completed his debrief. Natasha didn’t like their arrangement but tolerated it since she understood about needing to even out one’s ledger.

His entire life revolved around the older Agent and Clint had given up trying to segregate a small section to himself. Coulson had control of everything Clint did, from what he was allowed to have in his quarters to how long he exercised each day.

Every second of his life since joining Shield was shaped around the Shield handbook. His own worn copy was covered with notes and reminder flags from the first few years of joining Shield. Coulson wanted everything by the book and Clint had memorized most of the manual to prevent the punishments that the other agent doled out for every infraction.

The first few years at Shield had been rough until Coulson fully took him on as an asset. None of the other handlers had put up with him past two or three missions. They called him disobedient and Clint called them idiots but he was nothing if not adaptive, he’d survived worse than a few incompetent handlers.

If the plan fell apart and you had to improvise on a mission, it was not being disobedient. Coulson understood that fine line. As long as Clint respected the chain of command in the field and followed the rules on base he did not punish him for thinking on his feet in the field.

At least he wasn’t injured enough to need medical. Coulson liked to punish him for every injury he returned with from a mission. As far as Clint was concerned, Coulson owned him body and soul. Every preventable injury he inflicted on himself was damage to Coulson’s property that he had caused.

He even occasionally got presents from Coulson. The last had been two years ago when his handler took him on a long mission in France. They had been stuck in a safe house for several days waiting on evac and Coulson had fucked him on every surface of the place by the time pick up arrived. When they got back Coulson had given him the new quiver that Clint had spent his every off day working on with R&D on for months.

Clint slipped out of the debrief once he was dismissed and booked it to his quarters. He knew Coulson would know the second he touched down and be waiting on him. He took a quick shower and prepped himself before pulling on a new uniform. He tucked everything back in its place and cast a critical eye around the room. If anything was even slightly off he would be punished.

He dropped onto his knees and settled in to wait. His phone pinged with a text from Natasha letting him know she knew he was back but he ignored it. Sometimes Coulson left him on his knees for hours if he was busy but thankfully he must have missed Clint as much as he had been missing his handler.

He kept his eyes on the floor as the door opened silently. It clicked closed, Coulson engaging the lock before he move farther into the room starting his inspection. He glanced over everything, opening drawers and poking around the bathroom.

“Stand. Tomorrow you will dust everything. I won’t punish you tonight, I know you just returned this afternoon.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Strip. Show me you have been taking care of yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clint quickly untied his boots and set them to one side before quickly removing each article of clothing. Everything was carefully folded and set in a pile next to his boots before he stepped into the center of the room. Coulson walked around him, poking at fading bruises and the handful of scrapes that adorned one arm.

“You will start your normal training schedule back tomorrow.” Coulson said, reaching down and running a nail along Clint’s half hard length.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you prep yourself, Agent?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope you prepared yourself well because that is the only lube you are getting tonight. Kneel on the bed and spread your knees. Hands on the wall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Coulson slowly took off his jacket and tie as he watched Clint position himself.

“Did you enjoy working with Jackson’s team?”  
“Yes, sir. They work well together.”

“I’m afraid that you’ll be grounded for a few months after this.”

“May I ask a question, sir?”

“You may.” Coulson said as his shoes, pants, socks, and boxers were stacked precisely on the chair alongside his jacket and tie.

“Is this a punishment, sir? Did I do something wrong on the mission?”  
“No, Barton. The mission was a success. You did well. Fury wants you at the Pegasus facility to help with security.”

Coulson fisted his hard on, as he stroked Clint’s back with one hand.

“Enough talk. I want you to clean yourself up after this and put in the large plug. I want your ass available for me at a moment’s notice until you leave for Pegasus.”

Clint groaned as Coulson thrust in hard, “Yes, sir.” He gasped.

He bit his lip and rode out the hard and fast coupling. He had not prepped himself enough and every thrust burned like Coulson was shoving a railroad tie into his ass. He could not stop the low moans that slid from his throat as Coulson rammed into him, punching into his prostate relentlessly. Clint was still rock hard and dripping precum when Coulson pulled out, jerking himself off and striping Clint’s back with cum.

“Clean up and do not cum. I told you to be quiet.”

“Yes, sir.” Clint stayed where he was as Coulson quickly dressed.

“I’ve sent you several emails with paperwork that needs to be completed before our meeting at 3pm.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.” Clint said as Coulson let himself out of the room, not looking back.

Clint slowly peeled himself off the wall and straightened up. Hand shaped bruises were forming on his hips. His erection mocked him by giving a small twitch as he considered the shower. Pulling on a pair of boxers he opened his laptop and turned it on. He might as well let the paperwork kill his erection before he had to clean and prep himself for the plug.

***

Clint fought a yawn as he started stretching. He had a full day of training and meetings to finish the mission wrap up on four hours of sleep. It was going to be a very long day.

He did free weights, a round of the various weight machines, along with running on the treadmill. He turned down a sparring match with Natasha who merely smirked at him so she knew exactly why he turned her down.

After two meetings and an hour at the range he caught a quick lunch at the mess hall before heading to the outdoor range. He had originally planned to run the course at full speed but changed his plans when the plug was introduced to his day.

He had spent the entire day on edge. Every movement tweaked at the plug he was wearing keeping him half hard with a low burning edge of arousal in his gut. Just seeing Coulson waiting for him at the range tipped him the rest of the way to hard.

“Complete your session. I’ll meet you on the other side.” Coulson said, glancing up at Clint before stuffing his work in to a folder and walking away.

“Yes, sir.”

Clint nodded and forced his face blank. This was going to hurt. There was no way he could do half of the acrobatics he normally did and a small group of newbies were watching him set the robotic controls up. It was all but guaranteed that they would be watching the live feed of his run.

Tugging the mouth guard out of his gear bag he popped it in and rolled his neck before pulling on the rest of his gear. He normally only used it when he sparred with someone other than Natasha but maybe it would keep him from screaming every time the plug nailed his prostate.

Luckily he’d planned for a hard on and was wearing a loose pair of combat pants instead of his normal Kevlar and leather. It would disguise his crotch at a distance at least. Pulling on his quiver he readied his bow and grabbed an arrow to set on the string.

He forced himself to bounce in place like he normally would to settle his gear before jogging forward past the timer line and starting his run. Every vaulting jump and roll had him biting hard on the mouthpiece to control his groans. Every step shifted the plug against his prostate and rim. He was landing hard without most of his normal finesse.

The showy moves he normally would have tossed in went right out the window as he bolted through the course at full speed. He needed this to be over. Now.

He was gasping for air when he crossed the final timer. Coulson calmly checked his watch against the recorded time. He tossed Clint a water bottle and waited for his asset to catch his breath.

“You broke the Shield speed record, hit every target dead center, and shattered your old score. You’ve been holding back.” 

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t think I’d done any of that. I was sure I missed the fifteenth target.” Clint gasped out, fighting back a wince.

His ass was throbbing in time with his too fast heartbeat. Coulson had that micro tick to his mouth that meant he was pissed. Clint swallowed thickly and forced himself upright, shuddering as the plug shifted with the motion. He was looking at a world of hurt for the next month.

“Get cleaned up. I’ve left instructions for the rest of your day in your room.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clint fought against the urge to limp as he made his way to his quarters. An envelope was waiting centered perfectly on his bed. With a groan Clint forced himself into the shower, cleaning off the mud and sweat that covered him. He eased the plug out and prepared himself with extra lube before gritting his teeth and forcing it back in.

Drying off he went and snagged the envelope. Inside was the spare key to Coulson’s apartment in town and a list of things he wanted Clint to do when he arrived. If he left now he might be able to get the entire list completed before Coulson arrived.

- _Clean, vacuum, and dust the apartment._

_-Water the plants._

_-Change the sheets on both beds._

_-Do the laundry and call the dry cleaners to pick up his suits._

_-Prepare the bedroom._

_-Lay out the supplies for tonight on the side table._

_-Cook dinner and have it waiting._

_-Be prepped and waiting on his arrival._

Clint was just finishing plating Coulson’s meal when he heard the key in the door. He glanced at the dirty dishes with a wince but tossed everything in the sink and wiped down the counter. He hit his knees just as Coulson finished putting down his briefcase down and toeing off his shoes.

“You are racking up the punishments today, Barton.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Go into the bedroom and ready yourself.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clint quickly crawled out of the kitchen and through the living room. Coulson took his place at the table and started eating but Clint knew his eyes were on Clint’s progress across the floor. Once in the bedroom Clint quickly used the bathroom and shed his clothes.

When Coulson made it into the bedroom Clint was kneeling, hands clasped behind his back facing the wall. He was silent as Coulson surveyed what changes Clint had made to the room. What had seemed like a modern art piece of two paintings hung by pulleys had been revealed as a system for restraints.

“Take your place on the wall.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clint stood and moved between the pulleys, holding still as Coulson attached the leather wrist cuffs and started cranking the ropes tight. He fought against a whine as he was pulled up until he was barely touching the ground. His body was a long line of muscle and bone stretched against the wall.

“Are you ready, Barton?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You will keep count. For every time you miss I will add five lashes.”

“Yes, sir.”

The flail wrapped his back in lines of fire. Fighting to control his breathing, Clint counted. “One.” It went on and on but he never missed the count. Finally after Clint gasped, “Fifty.” Coulson moved away and put the flail up.

“Pull your knees up onto the wall. Present yourself to me.”

“Yes, sir.” Clint said, groaning slightly as he complied.

Somewhere around thirty eight his skin had broken leaving what felt like gaping mouths of skin as he pulled his knees up, shoulders straining at his full weight. Coulson stepped forward, bracing Clint’s hip with one hand as he pulled out the butt plug in one smooth slide. It still drew a choked breath from his lungs as it pulled against his abused hole. Coulson added more lube with quick efficient fingers before sliding home in one steady push.

Clint fought against the heat pooling in his gut. It was too much. He had spent the entire day on a razor’s edge of arousal and pain. Coulson shifted Clint’s body against the wall changing the angle of his thrusts and punching a groan from Clint’s lungs as he started nailing his prostate with every thrust.

“Sir.” he gasped as his body spiraled tighter and tighter.

“I did not give you permission to speak, Barton.” Coulson growled, reaching down and brutally pinching the skin next to his balls. Clint convulsed with the pain but it did its job and pushed him back from the impending orgasm. Coulson had not given him permission for that either.

Finally Coulson’s rhythm started to falter and he bit hard at Clint’s neck before ordering, “Come.” in one ear. Clint’s body exploded, hips bucking back against Coulson before his mind can fully comprehend the command. Coulson thrust a few more times before slamming deep as he came with muffled groan, his teeth buried in Clint’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

Pulling out he guided Clint’s legs back to the floor before moving to release the pulley letting Clint sag into the wall with a hiss. He stepped forward and tapped Clint’s legs to get him to spread them wider. With a quick application of cold lube he slid the plug back in, ignoring the flinch it pulled from Clint.

“What do you say, Barton?” Coulson asks as he released Clint from the cuffs.

“Thank you, sir, for my punishment.” Clint rasped, his throat feeling wrecked.

“Good.” Coulson said wiping himself down with a towel and gather up his sleep clothes. “You will clean up and set the room back to rights before I finish my shower. You may have tomorrow off of your normal training schedule but I do not want to see you idle.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”


	2. Running on Empty

Clint gasped for air from his sprawl on the mats. Sparing with Natasha might be good for his fighting skills but right now he was too run down to be up to her normal level of crazy. She dropped a water bottle onto his chest and sat down next to him. The gym was deserted this early in the morning and it was just the two of them.

“You need to slow down, Clint. You’re running yourself ragged.”

“Coulson wants me to up my training.”

“You’re going to injure yourself at this rate, дурак.”

“I’m fine. I’m just not sleeping great. I’m heading out at the end of next week anyway.”

“If you keep doing this you are going to hurt yourself or make yourself sick. I’ll give it a few more days to see if you adapt but if you don’t I will take my concerns to Fury.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?” Natasha murmured, giving him a hard glance.

Coulson had ordered him to increase his training schedule after his score on the outdoor range. It meant his days ran long and he collapsed into bed the second he hit his quarters. Or he would collapse if Coulson had not visited every night this week or left notes for him to head to his apartment.

Yesterday he’d spent hours cuffed to the wall while Coulson worked on reports. It had been his punishment for oversleeping and missing breakfast two days in a row. For all his training he could never lie to his handler, he’d stopped trying years ago.

Clint knew he was nothing like Natasha deep down. She was an asset and agent, a force of nature who worked for Shield because they were fighting the good fight. If that ever changed she would turn on them in an instant.

He didn’t have that option. Clint had joined Shield when the offer was join or take a bullet to the head. He had no future outside of Shield. Coulson might want him to be loyal to Shield but in truth he was loyal only to Coulson. If Coulson ordered him to shoot Fury in the chest he would do it without hesitation.

Prying himself off the mats with a wince, Clint made his way to his quarters to clean up. There was no way he was using the communal showers with a plug in his ass. Maybe he could talk to Coulson about leaving it out just for training. He could still wear it in meetings and to the range.

He needed to make breakfast today. Tugging out his phone he started making alerts to ensure he wouldn’t forget. Quickly showering, he packed his things for the day and took off toward the mess hall at a jog.

Coulson liked his assets time to be strictly regimented and to constantly be working toward some improvement or goal. Which meant that most of Clint’s meals were spent buried in a manual of some kind. He listened to language tapes while working out on the treadmill or lifting weights. Today was Arabic with a manual for the latest weapons that Shield R&D had released, he’d hopefully get to test fire a few later in the week.

Clint took the tray offered to him with a small frown. Coulson arranged his diet with medical and his trays were always prepared for him. Today was a small bowl of sliced fruit, milk, a large yogurt with granola and a protein bar.

He stuffed the bar into his bag for a mid-morning snack and snagged the corner of a table to read. He mechanically put away the food until only the milk was left, forcing himself he chugged the vile stuff quickly before handing over the empty dishes for inspection by the staff.

“And the protein bar?” The dietitian asked, not seeing the wrapper.

“Saving it for after I finish at the range.”

“Bring the wrapper back when you eat lunch and we’ll log it then.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

Clint made his way to the range with a mental sigh of relief. He wanted to get as much time on the range as possible before he headed to Pegasus. The facility was completely researched based and while they had a basic gym and range, it was not outfitted for archery. Six months without being able to use his bow might drive him crazy.

Just as he was about to head to the gym for his afternoon workout his phone pinged with a text from Coulson. It simply listed a time and location. Clint gave a small sigh but changed directions, if he hurried he could make the distant warehouse on time.

“The cameras are down for repairs.” He said with a small grin, pulling Clint against him.

“Thought you wanted me to keep on schedule, sir?”

“I do but I also want to fuck you over this crate.” He murmured, nipping at Clint’s jaw before he spun the smaller man and bent him over the crate. “I have a present for you and I want your opinion.” He said as Clint worked on getting his belt open and pants down, Coulson’s hands sliding up Clint’s shirt and teasing with his nipples.

“Ah, always love presents, sir.” Clint said, shuddering lightly as Coulson kissed the back of his neck.

“I think you will like this.” Coulson said, “Take off your shirt.”

“Yes, sir.” Coulson pulled out a packet of lube and undid his own pants, letting them fall to puddle at his knees. The plug was eased out gently and replaced with lube slick fingers that gently spread and circled to run teasing circles at Clint’s prostate,

“I arranged for us to have this weekend off base. I want to take you to a bed and breakfast in the mountains.”

“Would like that, sir.” Clint said breathlessly, shivering as he fought the urge to push back.

“That’s not the present.” Coulson said as he removed his fingers and slowly sank his cock into Clint with a sigh. “Want to mark you as mine. You have two options you can choose from.” He pulled back and slid slowly in giving a slow circling grind against Clint’s ass as he bottomed out.

“What, what are my choices, sir? Not allowed tattoos.”

“No, I was thinking a discrete piercing you can take out while you are on a mission off base or a necklace. Maybe both.”

“Piercings aren't, fuck, aren't allowed, sir.” Clint panted as Coulson started moving faster.

“I can allow you an exception since you’re my asset. I was thinking a nipple piercing or a cock piercing.” He said reaching forward and starting to pump Clint’s cock with his lube slick hand.

“Either, fuck, like the necklace idea.”

“You would have to take it off for missions, same as the piercing.”

“Yeah, okay.” Clint whined, “Sir,” as his body shook, he was so close. Coulson started punching him with short, fast strokes, his own rhythm falling apart as his hand speed up, jacking Clint’s cock relentlessly.

“Come for me, Barton.”

“Fuck.” Clint gasped as he came hard over Coulson’s fist and the crate below him. He groaned as Coulson thrust in one last time, grinding against his ass as he pulsed inside of him. They held that position for several long breaths before Coulson gently pulled out, claiming one final kiss from Clint before he stepped away to right his clothes.

“Better put this back so you don’t leak.” Coulson murmured quickly lubing the plug and sliding it back in. “Think about what you want. I’ll pick you up Friday after lunch.”

“I’ll be ready, sir.” Clint said, pushing off the crate and pulling his pants back up.


	3. Pegasus

Pegasus was just as boring as he’d suspected it would be. He got on okay with the junior science geeks at meal breaks since they seemed determined to interrupt any reading he tried to do with questions about his book or poking to see just how much of a scientific mind he had. It was rather fun discussing theoretical physics at lunch before slipping back into his Hawkeye mask and prowling the labs.

Selvig saw him as nothing more than a dumb grunt and Clint did nothing to deny the assumption. People tended to talk more openly around staff when they thought they couldn’t understand a word you were saying. Particle physics might not be his forte but Coulson had shoved enough research papers at him that he knew the basics of what all the equipment did and what they were trying to accomplish in their experiments.

Coulson had insisted he keep up with his training however he could. Which lead to Clint spending hours each night working out in the gym, lifting weights and pounding away at the treadmill. He only had time to hit the range every few days but he spent half his rest day each week going through every weapon the place offered.

The science staff might have been trying to harness energy from alien artifacts but the rest of the staff were more relaxed then at New York. The dietary officer had even snuck in a case of real hamburgers one Friday and saved one for Clint. He’d argued about the diet Clint was on from day one and would occasionally sneak him treats off the list. The chocolate bar had definitely been the best so far.

Of course, that didn’t mean that Coulson wasn’t still monitoring him. They had a weekly meeting to review the lab’s progress that he sat in on and Coulson would email him corrections and additions to his schedule when he had time. Coulson himself was busy with his own work.

Clint was called in to work security when the hammer was found in New Mexico but they had been too busy running surveillance on the scientists to do more than pass each other in the hall. Once Thor was recognized as a friendly and the destroyer taken care of Clint caught a flight back to Pegasus. It had been good to hold his bow and be able to take a few shots at least.

Clint fiddled with the thin band of black leather around his neck. It had a tiny silver bead marked with the letters PC but beyond that was unadorned. It had taken him the last month to get used to the piercing that capped the tip of his penis. It had been agony to have done but now that it was healed Clint decided that he liked it. The nipple piercing had been vetoed when Coulson realized that it could be seen under his normal thin tee-shirts.

The world was turning steadily crazier and Shield was trying to harness energy from a doorway into another galaxy. It left Clint’s gut in a knotted mess as he watched the scientists poke and prod at a glowing blue cube that seemed more and more sentient the longer they spent with it. He was relieved when Coulson arrived, took one look at Clint’s report and got on the phone with Fury.

Six hours later Fury was on site inspecting the facility and the cube was acting up even more. Clint was moving as soon as the alien, Loki, aimed the spear at Fury, tackling him to the ground. Whatever the spear was, it pack a punch.

Clint had just pulled himself to his feet when Loki grabbed his arm hard enough to grind the bones of his wrist together. The fuzz clouding his mind from the near miss intensified as the spear neared his chest. He was frozen in place, silently screaming as blue ice flooded his body and mind.

He flailed and scrabbled for control of his own body as he followed every directive the cube and Loki wished of him. It took every ounce of energy he had to force his arm away from the instinctive headshot it wanted to take when Fury was suddenly in his line of fire.

The next three days went past in a blur of exhaustion and blue. When Natasha was finally in front of him, Clint was a shivering wreck within his own mind. He collapsed gratefully into the darkness her fists granted.

When he woke up he was strapped to a bed with Natasha already working on the buckles to release him. He was content to shiver and gasp for air while she checked him over. His entire body and mind felt scraped raw and bleeding. Everything hurt and he was pretty sure he had a concussion from the last blow Natasha had dealt him. He would take one hundred more blows if it meant Loki was out of his head.

***

When the battle was finally over and Stark dragged them in for shawarma, they slumped around the table in various states of exhaustion. Clint knew he was going to be debriefed and suspended for weeks if not months while medical decided if his brain was his own or not. He was not looking forward to it.

He picked at his portion but it was only for politeness sake. Nausea burned through him now that the adrenaline was wearing off. Between not really eating or sleeping for three days and the nonstop fighting his body was probably going to reject anything he tried to eat violently. Anyway, Coulson wouldn’t have wanted him to deviate from his diet.

Coulson was going to be so proud that Clint had fought beside his hero. Hell, he would be tickled pink that Clint was sitting here while Captain Rogers slowly fell asleep just feet away. It was the only non-Shield thing that Coulson had ever shared with Clint and he looked forward to telling his handler all the details he could remember about his idol.

The phone one of the Shield agents had shoved at him pinged with a message pulling Clint out of his musings. God, he was too tired for this. Tugging out the square of metal and glass he ignored Stark’s indignant glare.

“What, no Stark phone?” Tony snarked loudly, Steve snapping awake with a jerk at the noise.

“It’s not even mine, Stark.” Clint snapped forcing himself out of the chair once he read the message.

“We need to go in?” Natasha asked briskly, pushing her plate in front of Thor.

“I do.”

“Then we do.”

“Is Shield calling us in?” Steve asked, looking between Clint and the others.

“No, just me. You guys can stay and eat.”

“I need to pick up some things from the New York base if that’s where you’re headed.” Steve said standing with a wince.

“No skin off my butt.” Clint muttered, rubbing at his eyes. “Any other hitchhikers?”

“No, thanks. Me and military bases aren't the safest combination.” Bruce said with a small grimace.

“Nope, you and Point Break can stay at the tower until we get Loki ready to send home. You’re going to love the labs, Brucie. It’s Candy land for geeks.”

“Thanks...I think.”

“Whatever, I’m going to see if someone can drive us. Come on if you’re coming.” Clint muttered.

He was already looking at massive punishments considering how the last few days were racking up. Snarking at Stark shouldn’t even top the list. He’s rather impressed that no one tried to come in and slap cuffs on him while they were eating.

He tiredly climbed into the back of a troop transport and tried to ignore the way his headache was ramping up from mild concussion to full blown migraine. The other soldiers studiously ignored the new passengers and Clint was stupidly grateful for it.

They were almost back to the main New York base when Natasha tapped his arm.

“Clint, your nose.”

“Yeah.”

Clint wiped at the wet smear, already tasting the blood dripping down his throat, tilting his head back. He thought for an instant that they had been attacked when his legs failed him and he slid out of his seat. The darkness rising up to drown him did nothing to deny that theory.

***

Clint came back to himself fighting. Nothing made sense. The room blurred around him as he struggled against the hands holding him down. People were talking but it was a garbled string of sounds that held no meaning.

He abruptly froze chest heaving as he recognized the shock of red hair to one side. One of his attackers. He gasped for air as they continued to babble at him. He weakly tugged at his hands and this time they let him go.

Clint huddled against the railing pulling himself in small like he was still a child at the circus waiting for the next blow to fall. God, his head hurt. He gripped at his hair with one hand, wiping at the trickle of blood from his nose with the other.

Suddenly like a switch had been flipped the noise started to make sense and of course they were arguing about him. The three doctors to one side wanted to take him for tests while Natasha and Steve argued that the test could wait until he was able to understand what was happening. Understanding would be good.

“Tasha?” Clint croaked out, fighting against the irrational need to shove himself tighter into his corner as every eye snapped to him.

“There you are, Hawk. You scared Steve.”  
“Sorry?” He offered weakly as Natasha came to sit next to him. She tugged on his arm until he was sitting upright, more or less correctly in the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Before or after Loki?”

“After.”

“Stark made us eat Shawarma and we caught a transport back to base.” He frowned as he tried to get farther than that and came up blank.

“You got a nosebleed on the transport.” she prompted.

“I had a migraine. Still do.” He tried to ignore the doctors that were taking notes on their conversation.

“You also had a seizure, you fell out of your seat and freaked out half the puppies.”

“Puppies?” Steve asked with a frown.

“Junior agents.” Clint said, rubbing at his face. “The doctors think it was the mind control thing?”

“Probably. They’ve done a few test but you keep having seizures and ruining the films.”

“So they want to do the tests now that I’m awake?”

“You’ve woken up three times but had another seizure before they could get you moved.”

“How many so far?”

“Eleven. If you feel sleepy it’s because of all the anti-seizure meds they are pumping into you.”

“Can you tell us the last time you ate or slept, Agent Barton? You are showing a rather severe weight loss for how long you were held captive.”  
“With Coulson at Pegasus. Lunch.” Clint said, swallowing around a sudden surge of nausea.

“That was five days ago.” Natasha put in softly. He’d been seizing on and off for twenty four hours already.

“Yeah, the cube wouldn’t let us stop, not for anything.” He said swallowing again. “I didn’t really eat any of the stuff with Stark, my head hurt too much.”

“He drank two bottles of water.” Natasha put in, looking him over with a frown.

“Okay, we already have you started on basic fluids. I want to put you on a high caloric diet once you get some sleep. The orderlies are going to take you down for an MRI and PET scan in a moment.”

“Alright.” Clint agreed, laying back and trying to relax. He still felt like he’d been hit by a truck and left for dead. “My gear?” he asked belatedly realizing he was wearing only his boxers and a hospital gown.

“I took it to your room on base. Brought you some clothes back for once they allow you up as well.”

“Thanks.”

“Just a few more questions, Agent. Do you want the other’s to leave while we talk?”

Clint blinked at him before the implications sank in. “Yeah, do you mind coming back later, Steve?”

“Sure, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’ll let the other’s know you're doing better.”  
“Thanks, Rogers.” Natasha said with a small smile. “You want me to stay?”

“Yeah.”

“You had a number of injuries to your chest, back and stomach. You will need to be on a course of antibiotics until they heal.”  
“The bite marks.”

“Yes, quite a few of them were rather deep. Two needed stitches.” The doctor paused glancing at Natasha before continuing. “We stitched up several external rectal tears but you will need a more thorough examination to rule out surgical repairs. We also already took a rape kit. Do you want it processed?”

“Doubt they’ll let me have it tossed considering its alien cum, Doc.”

“I take it you mean that Loki was the offender in this case.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Will you be alright for me to examine you now?”

“Sure, might as well get it over with.” Clint said shakily letting Natasha help him out of the hospital gown.

“We should have killed him.” she snarled taking in the trail of bloody bite marks that ran down his chest, abdomen, and groin.

“He’s a prince or some shit, Tasha. Political immunity or something.”

The doctor was brisk in his examination but through. When Clint turned over with a small groan Natasha started cursing in Russian and moved away from the bed. Bite marks, bruises, and hand shaped burns covered his back and hips.

“Do you remember what cause the burns?”  
“Loki’s a frost giant. Like being touched by something subzero if he wants.” Some kind of salve was spread over burns and several of the bite marks were lightly bandaged. Clint bit his lip bloody during the final rectal exam trying to ignore the bloody gloves the doctor discarded afterwards.

“I’ll need to at least give you a light anesthetic for the internal injuries. I’ll see if I can get an anesthesiologist here now. Give me a few minutes.” He said, pulling the blankets back over Clint’s back.

“What do you need, Hawk?”

“Nothing I can have right now.” Clint choked out with a small hysterical laugh. “Can I, I was wearing a necklace. Black leather. Do you know…?”

“I think it’s with your gear. I’ll go get it.”  
“Thanks, Tasha.”

He nearly cried when Natasha clipped the leather band back around his neck. He’d gotten used to the light weight and rub of it against his neck. It was the only real physical gift Coulson had ever gotten him. He knew the man was probably running around the city putting out fires. He’d see him once things calmed down. Until then, this would have to be enough.

Three hours later he was sleeping off the anesthesia from his procedure when Stark came sweeping into his room with Steve and Bruce trailing behind him. Steve shot him an apologetic look that Bruce mirrored as he slouched in behind the super soldier.

“Christ, Hawkbutt. You look half dead!” Stark said, looking Clint up and down with a frown.

“I told you he was recovering from the battle, Tony.” Steve said with a sigh, dropping onto the couch with a defeated air.

“Well, you need to get over it. In three days we are sending Reindeer Games home so you need to be up and moving by then.”

“Wonderful. Please get out.” Clint muttered, slurring slightly. His mouth to brain filter was firmly in the off position and he just wanted to go to sleep.

“Stark he just had minor surgery, He needs to sleep.” Natasha snapped.

He was too sluggish with drugs to stop Stark from tugging down the sheet on his chest. “Please tell me Natalie was the one who left these. Damn, talk about aftercare.”

“Fuck off, Stark.” He snarled, lashing out. Stark skipped out of reach easily. Clint swallowed convulsively, and then did it again. He had a faint thought of “Shit, not again.” as the blackness rose to swallow him.

He blinked back to awareness sometime later laying curled on his side, while Natasha read the paper out loud.

“You hate reading the news.” he mumbled watching her blurrily.

“Steve was worried, he started it. Bruce took Tony back to the tower after Steve gave Tony a black eye and the doctors threatened to ban him from the ward.” She said tossing the paper to one side.

“Sorry I missed it.” He muttered as she hit the call button. They were quickly swarmed by several nurses and a doctor who took his vitals and asked stupid questions. They were just leaving as Steve and Bruce came back in.

“You’re looking better.” Bruce said with a grin, handing Natasha a coffee and setting a paper bag down. “Nauseous at all?”

“No, just not really up to eating much yet.”

“Try this and let me know how your stomach does. It’s what I normally crave after I transform.”

“Should he be eating?” Steve asked, sipping at his own massive cup.

“Can’t hurt.” Bruce said with a shrug. “Stop if you get even the tiniest bit nauseous.”

“Okay, thanks.” Clint said taking a small spoonful. The ice cream was cold in his mouth and throat and after a few spoonfuls seemed to be content to stay down. Sandwiches and chips were passed out to the rest of the group.

“I’m sorry about Tony. He’s an idiot but he normally means well.”

“He should’ve known better than to start poking at a soldier in the hospital.” Steve muttered, taking a large bite of his sandwich.

“Tony’s used to dealing with star struck fans and people who run companies as big as his. He hasn’t had to deal with normal people in a long time.”

“Since when are we considered normal?” Clint asked, eying Natasha with a small grin. “Bruce, you managed to find the two misfits at Shield. Neither of us is exactly considered a normal soldier.” They chatted lightly for another hour before leaving so that Clint could get some rest.

“And you were the one who thought the Avengers Initiative was a bad idea.” Natasha murmured to him with a grin as she lowered his bed and tucked him in.

“Still don’t think I should be on a team with superheroes, Tasha. I’m just little ol’ human me.”

“And that’s exactly why you should be on the team. Sleep, Hawk.”

“Night, Tasha.”

***

Two more days and three more seizures, Clint was really getting tired of sleeping. He really shouldn’t have been surprised when Director Fury and A.D. Hill strode into his room in a wave of black leather. Natasha stepped out at Fury’s gesture, shutting the door behind her.

“Sorry, Agent Barton, but the debrief cannot wait any longer.”

“That’s okay, sir. I can talk. Do you want the highlights or the full details?”

“Full details?” Hill asked from where she was setting up the recorders next to his bed.

“Agent Barton has eidetic memory. He generally gives two versions of his field reports, one being the full recording and the other what everyone else probably remembers.” Fury said, pulling off his leather duster and perching on the arm of the lounger next to the bed.

“Give us the full report, Agent. Don’t leave anything out.”

“Yes, sir.” Clint said, closing his eyes and trying to gear himself up for what was guaranteed to be a painful recitation. “Sir, can Agent Romanov sit in?”

“Why do you want her, Agent?”

“I don’t think there’s anything of the cube still in my head, but...”

“But if there is she took you out once and could do it again.”  
“Yes, sir.”

“Hill, please ask Agent Romanov to step in.”

Natasha glanced at him and took a fighting stance in one corner. Clint kept his eyes on her as he started recounting the days that Loki had held him captive in his own mind.


	4. Battered Foundations

“Thank you for telling us everything, Agent Barton.” Fury said as Hill gathered up the notes and recorders, pulling on his coat as he stood.

“Sir, can I ask, where Agent Coulson’s been assigned? I tried texting him but I’m not getting a response.”

“I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Agent Barton. Agent Coulson was killed during the attack on the Helicarrier.”

“Oh.” Clint muttered, stunned silent.

No wonder Phil wasn’t answering his phone. He was dead, he’d never answer the phone again. Natasha was snapping something at Fury and hitting the call button but Clint couldn’t hear what they were saying over the rushing in his ears. When the darkness rushed in to pull him under he sank gladly.

He woke slowly this time feeling drugged and blurry. Natasha was at his side as soon as he moved to curl onto his side. He heard her tell whoever else was in the room to get out as she climbed into bed with him.

“I didn’t want to tell you until you were back in your rooms on base. The doctors were afraid you’d have another seizure if you got too stressed out.”

“Like finding out your partner died in the attack you lead.” He said, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“That was Loki, not you.”

“Phil would have skinned him alive.” he choked as he gripped her hard against him, the tears finally breaking free.

“He shot him with that experimental gun he loved from R&D. Threw Loki through a wall.”

“Good.”

The next time he woke up the IV had been removed and some of his civilian clothes were laid out on the chair. Clint forced his heavy limbs out of bed. He gathered up the clothes and shuffled his way to the bathroom to change.

The clothes had to mean that Loki was getting kicked off world today. He needed to see that or at least be there to make sure he didn’t try anything. He had finished getting cleaned up and shaved by the time Natasha returned with a bag full of weapons.

“They’re allowing me weapons?”

“You’re borrowing mine. I did grab your favorite knife from your quarters.” she said handing it over.

“Thank you. I take it I’m grounded?”

“For the next six weeks until you don’t have a seizure.”

“The doctors think that’s going to resolve itself?”

“The last estimate was sometime this week. Your brain waves are already almost back to normal.”

“Good to know.”

“Stark is making noise about inviting everyone to live at his tower. Bruce has already moved in. Steve’s heading out to see the country on a road trip or something. Stark might ask you about it today.”

“No way in hell.” he said with a huff, tossing the hospital gown onto the bed and pulling on his shirt.

“Fury might order it. He likes the idea of us all close in case something comes up.”

“Then he needs to because that’s the only way I’m moving in with that asshole.”

“I’ll let him know if he asks.”

“What time do we need to be there?” He asked, tossing the sweats he had been living in for the last three days into a bag.

“Noon. I figured you might want to hit Coulson’s place first.” Clint froze, fighting for air as he considered going into Coulson’s apartment without permission.

“No. I have everything I need from there.” Even with Coulson dead and not able to give permission he couldn’t make himself go there much less take anything out.

“If that’s what you want. We can head to a dinner until it’s time to head out.” she said, firmly, the decision already made for him.

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

The sendoff was thankfully painless with no one bothering to attempt more than small talk with the two assassins. Clint bared his teeth in a feral smirk as Natasha whispered about how broken the former god looked. Clint had explained that the asgardian had likely been tortured before he accepted his mission to take over earth but it would not lessen his punishment.

Clint trailed Natasha back to base and went to his quarters. Between Loki and the seizures he was restricted to base until he was cleared by medical. Once they cleared him however he’d have to recertify before they would let him be put back in the asset pool.

He hadn’t worked with other handlers very often. He was not sure what he wanted to do now that Coulson was not pushing him to excel. He had spent the last ten years letting the other man control every aspect of his life.

When their relationship had turned sexual after they fell together after a bad mission Clint had been relieved. They’d fit together like two well-worn puzzle pieces. Clint had already given himself heart and soul to Coulson years before, this was just another piece that he was welcome to own.

Now he was starting to realize that he had given Coulson everything, leaving nothing behind. He forced himself to go to his checkups with medical and to hit the gym to keep in shape but the rest of his time was spent curled in his bunk fighting tears or panic. He had no idea what to do with himself.

Natasha was keeping in contact by text message but Fury had her bouncing around the globe tracking down the alien technology people had snatched up in the wake of the attack. Most of the other agents were avoiding him and Clint didn’t try to talk to anyone. He wasn’t sure what he would even say.

Clint knew he looked bad when the mess officers suddenly added a dessert to his tray after years of strictly tracking every calorie that passed his lips. He nibbled at the meatloaf and potatoes, ignoring the brownie, while trying to make sense of the latest manual R&D had left in his mail slot. He handed the mostly full tray back and ignored the dietary officer’s comments. He just wasn’t very hungry.

Getting allowed back on the range helped even if he did drive the range officers nuts for two weeks getting recertified on every weapon available. He divided his time between the range, gym, and library. Keeping himself busy was the name of the game and if it meant he was too exhausted to dream at the end of the day, even better.

He really should have been expecting the trip to Director Fury’s office and the order to move to the tower. He knew Coulson would have wanted him to join the Avengers, it was what he had been grooming him for, pushing him to excel until he was the best of the best. Clint forced himself to pause once he was dismissed.

“Sir, the arrangements for Agent Coulson’s funeral. Do you know…?”

“Agent Coulson’s body was returned to his family in Denver and buried last week, Agent.”

“Of course.” Clint managed, swallowing around the lump in his throat. “Thank you, sir.”

It was surprisingly hard to box up his things from his tiny quarters on base. This had been his home on and off for ten years. He left most of his gear with Shield, only taking two go bags in case he was called out for either the Avengers or Shield on short notice. He moved into Stark Tower with a single box of books, one duffle of clothes, two bags of weapons and armor, and one case for his favorite bows.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Agent Barton. I am Jarvis. You may think of me as the live in butler. If you have need of anything you only need to ask.” a man’s voice with a cultured British accent echoed gently from the overhead speakers as he stepped into the main elevator.

“Thanks, Jarvis. Uh, can you show me to my room?”

“Of course, Agent. If you will proceed to the elevator I will direct you to your floor.”

“Um, floor?”

“Each of the Avengers is being given their own floor of the tower. Yours is above Miss Romanov’s on level 58.”

Clint stepped out of the elevator and froze taking in the massive open space. It was all sleek lines of steel, white carpet, and soft beige walls. He convulsively gripped the box in his arms tighter.

“Shit.”

“Is something the matter, Agent Barton? Sir has instructed me to make any changes you require to your floor.”

“No...it’s great, Jarvis. Tell Stark thank you for me.”

“Of course, Agent Barton.”

Clint explored the massive floor. Hell, the closets were bigger than his entire quarters back on base. He set his bags in the bedroom and slowly unloaded the manuals and textbooks he had brought with him to work on. Just laying everything out in the empty room made his chest tighten.

“Um, Jarvis?”

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Is there a gym here?”

“Yes, the gym is on level 50. I can direct you if you wish?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks, Jarvis.”

“It is my pleasure, Agent Barton.”

The gym rivaled what Shield had on base if you ignored the outdoor ranges that Clint loved. He ducked into the shower room to change into a pair of shorts before starting up his normal routine. He’d run through all the weights and almost finished his run on the treadmill when a door opened to one side, letting Bruce wander in looking a bit lost.

“Hey, Jarvis told me you’d arrived. Sorry, I don’t want to interrupt your workout.” Bruce said, running one hand through his curls nervously.

“It’s no problem. I’m basically done. Did you need something?”

“Well, Tony has a thing for ordering in and I figured it was only right to let you pick since you moved in today. Would you be up for lunch?”

“Um, yeah. Let me go get cleaned up a bit first.”

“Jarvis has all the menus so it just depends on what you want to eat. Burgers, Pizza, Chinese, Thai, you name it.”

“I eat pretty much anything that’s put in front of me. I’m not really picky.” Clint managed, fighting against the sudden urge to flee.

“Would you be okay with Thai? I found this great place not far from here, unless you’ve been craving something?”

“No, Thai’s good. I’ll look at the menu once I change.”

“Great, I’ll see you on the common level in a bit.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Clint said, gathering up the small bag he’d brought down for his clothes.

He waited until Bruce was in the elevator before slumping with a groan. Fuck, he had never eaten Thai in his life. Trudging to the elevator he headed to his floor. One shower later he still had no idea what to do.

“Um, Jarvis?”  
“Yes, Agent Barton? Are you ready to see the menus?” Jarvis asked, popping up a listing of options on one wall.

“Uh, yeah. Do you have access to any Shield files for the team?”

“What exactly would you need access to, Agent Barton?”  
“My medical and dietary files. Shield has had me on a strict diet for years. I’m not sure if Thai food is even allowed.”

“From what I have access to, it appears that your calorie, protein, and carbohydrate intake and calorie expenditure are being monitored. If you wish I can assist you with continuing the monitoring of your diet?”  
“That would help a lot, Jarvis. Thanks.” Clint said scrubbing a hand through his drying hair. “What on the menus you have would work for today?”

“Considering that you have eaten nothing since arrival and exercised for several hours most of the options are viable. Would you like me to narrow the selections down in any way? Perhaps those less spicy?”

“Sure.” That narrowed the options down considerably and Clint hesitantly picked three things with prompting from the AI.

“Thank you for the help, Jarvis.” Clint muttered, digging through one of his bags hunting for his black hoodie.

“Pardon if this is presumptuous of me, Agent Barton, but it appears that you have a very regimented exercise program in place as well. Would you like me to monitor your progress in this regard as well?”

“Yeah. That would be good, Jarvis. Coulson would want me to keep improving.” Clint murmured tugging on his hoodie and fingering the bead on his necklace for a long moment.

He just had to keep moving. Coulson would have wanted him to keep going without him. Maybe if he just keep asking himself what Coulson would have wanted he could fake his way through the next few weeks until he was put back in the field.

***

After dinner Clint excused himself and went back to his rooms. He grimaced at the massive bed, there was no way he was going to be able to sleep on that after ten years on a mattress barely the size of a twin bed. He slowly and carefully put up his clothes in the massive closet with a sigh.

“Jarvis?”  
“Yes, Agent Barton?”  
“Are there any extra blankets around here?”

“There are extra blankets on the top shelf of your closet, along with pillows should you need them. I am able to alter the temperature if you are uncomfortable, however.”

“That’s okay, Jarvis. I’m good.”

“Very well, Agent Barton.”

Five minutes later Clint had a basic pallet roughed out against the back wall of his bedroom closet and his bow and a quiver full of broad heads within reach. He left the extra bag of weapons to sort later. Wandering the room he inspected the surfaces trying to guess how long everything would take to clean.

“Jarvis, where are the cleaning supplies?”  
“If I may, Agent Barton, Sir has several robots that have the job of cleaning the tower floors. They operate while the residents are out of their rooms.”

“I kind of got used to high standards when I was on base, Jarvis. Everything had to be in its place or I got punished.” Clint said, wandering the living room and eying the books that filled one wall.

“I can ensure that everything is arranged to military standards if that would help, Agent Barton.”

“That would be great, Jarvis. Thank you.” Clint said, trying to ignore the growing itch that said he wasn’t doing enough.

“If the selection of books is lacking I can arrange to exchange them to something more to your liking.”

“No, it’s fine. I mostly read manuals and textbooks for work. I might as well broaden my horizons a bit.” Clint said, pulling down what looked like a murder mystery.

“Are you currently working on any one area of study?”  
“What like school? No, nothing like that. Coulson liked for his assets to stay busy. Any downtime meant I needed to be working on something. I got certified on several aircraft, learned languages, that kind of thing.”

“Ah, I have found the certifications listed in your file. It is most extensive.”

“Like I said, I like to stay busy.” He said with a shrug.

“May I ask, sir, have you ever had your intelligence tested?”  
“Like an IQ score? Nah, not unless it was in the barrage of test Shield gave me during the intake process.” Clint took a seat on the floor near one of the windows and started doing some basic stretches while he read.

“Pardon the interruption, Agent Barton, but Sir has asked me to offer the use of the game systems attached to your television or the rather large collection of movies he has available.”

“Might take you up on the movies later, Jarvis, but I’ve never touched a game system. I wouldn’t know what the hell to do with one.”

“Of course, sir.” There was a short pause before Jarvis interrupted again, voice somehow coming across as resigned. “Might I be able to offer you some music or perhaps a yoga tape?”

“Stark checking up on us, Jarvis?” Clint asked with a sigh, putting his book down.   
“Sir wishes to make sure everyone in the tower is comfortable and was rather disappointed that he could not be here to welcome you.”

“Fuck my life.” Clint muttered, “Can you call him for me, Jarvis?”

“Right away, sir.” A moment later, Stark filled one of the walls.

“Listen Stark. I appreciate the gestures but you do not need to apologize to me. You did not cause me to have a seizure.”

“Well...okay, two points. One, I kind of did make you have a seizure and it was a dick move on my part. Kind of reflex for me at this point. Second, how the hell are you doing that? Just looking at it makes my dick hurt.” Clint blinked and glanced down at where he was doing a split.

“Never had any complaints, Stark.” He managed with a slight leer, not really in the mood for the banter. “Listen, the place is great, the rooms are amazing. Thank you for letting me crash at your house.”

“Me casa es su casa, and all that. But seriously, anything you need, let Jarvis know. I hope to get back in town by next Friday and we can have a Housewarming night out or something. Plus it sounds like the Star Spangled Man with a Plan will be back by then as well. You haven’t heard from Red lately have you?”  
“Natasha’s out of the country on a mission. Sounded like she was going to be a few weeks.”

“Alright, good to know. Well, nice talking to you. I’ll let you get back to your, whatever you’re doing.”

“It’s called reading, Stark. You should try it sometime.”

“You know, I think I have heard of that. Later, Legolas.”

Clint blinked at the blank screen for a long moment before getting up and taking his book to his room. He could understand now why Natasha and Coulson had said the man was impossible. He was thinking so fast that you had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth next. It made planning out a conversation in advance impossible.

Curling up on his closet pallet Clint let the novel pull him in until he started yawing. Marking his place, he carefully set it to one side. Tugging out his new phone he started adding alerts for his meals, scheduling out his exercise sessions, and the handful of appointments he had with Shield in the coming weeks.

He had another four weeks at least before Shield would allow him to be added back to the asset pool. With Coulson gone he would need to see who was even his handler now. All his paperwork so far had been coming straight through A.D. Hill but he doubted she was going to keep him as an asset.

Clint could not really even fathom having a different handler then Coulson. He’d been his handler for ten years, his partner and lover for eight. It was like the foundation he had built his entire life on had been cut away. He was walking on a tightrope over a gaping chasm waiting for the wind to blow him off his feet.


	5. Certifications and Check Ups

Clint decided that he would pick up a few things to personalize his new space this week. It would give him an excuse to get out of the tower and learn his way around New York like Fury had suggested. Most of the things he would have picked up for a new house were already provided considering who he was living with.

The kitchen had basic supplies and tools, the fridge was already stocked with drinks and basic meals, the bathrooms already filled with several kinds of soap and shampoo. The living room shelves had one section filled with paperbacks. He had dishes and sheets and all the basic staples for a house but none of it was his.

Maybe it was time to pick up a few things since he had the space to keep and use them. Even if he had to cut and run he doubted the team would toss his stuff unless he died or something. It might be nice to have his own place to come back to.

On missions he generally lived on MREs or whatever the other agents cooked if there was a kitchen. He knew how to cook but only ever did so for Coulson, his quarters back on base had not included a kitchen. He decided to pick up a few groceries and actually cook for himself for a while. Coulson had put him through several cooking classes for a mission where he had to work in a hotel kitchen. Maybe some of it had stuck. Coulson had always liked his meals.

Clint went through his morning exercise routine before cleaning up and heading out shopping. An outdoor market supplied him with most of the groceries he wanted and he returned to the tower to put them up before heading back out. It was at the home goods store that he hit a wall. He’d never had to buy anything like this before.

Before Shield he’d lived out of abandoned houses and his clothes came from Military surplus stores or Good Will. His uniforms for Shield had been the first brand new clothes he’d had as far back as he could remember. He was totally overwhelmed and quickly left the store, fighting to slow the panic pushing his heart rate high.

The only real purchase he did manage was a new silver piercing. Shield had confiscated his last one when he’d been examined after the battle. He hadn’t been in any shape to argue when he was discharged and wasn’t sure if a piercing would be valued the same as another piece of jewelry to Shield. He wasn’t even supposed to be wearing one while on a mission so he really didn’t have room to argue with them over it.

Locking it in place in a nearby public bathroom let some of the tension riding his body dissipate. Some small part of him was still waiting for Coulson to be waiting around the corner ready to order Clint back to his knees. He made his way back to the tower trying not to let his grief show.

Thankfully no one was on the common level as he stumbled through. Catching the elevator to his floor, he rushed to the closet closing himself in. He collapsed with his back to the door as the sobs hit.

Crawling to his pallet he curled up, wrapping his arms around himself. Coulson was gone. He wasn’t coming back. Everyone he had ever loved left him in the end. It was just a fact of life.

Clint sobbed until he couldn't breathe, until he had no more tears left in him and he fell asleep. His phone beeped at him some time later reminding him that it was time for his next exercise session. He ignored that one and the next prompting him to eat dinner. Coulson was not here to punish him for skipping them anyway. He held on and let himself shake apart in his grief.

The next morning he crawled out of the closet when his alarm woke him. Making his slow way to the shower he forced himself to clean himself up and shave. God, everything reminded him of Coulson. Just breathing hurt. Moving felt like he was slogging through waist deep mud.

Pulling on his exercise clothes he made his way to the kitchen. He forced himself to eat a protein bar and drink a bottle of water, ignoring how everything tasted like ash. Jarvis interrupted as he was pulling on his tennis shoes.

“Agent Barton, I know you wished for me to track your calories and diet however you have skipped several meals since arriving to the tower.”

“I know, Jarvis, and I will try and do better.” Clint said, rubbing at his arms. Why was he feeling so friggin’ cold? “I’m still trying to get my head back on straight since the battle. I won’t push myself too hard this week. Maybe we can try upping my exercise schedule once things settle down.”

“Very well, Agent. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“Thanks, Jarvis, but I think that this need to be something I work out on my own.” He said with a sigh.

Clint spent the morning exercising until Jarvis requested that he join Bruce and the soon to arrive Steve Rogers for lunch. He fought against the urge to groan. The last thing he wanted to do right now was spend time with Coulson’s hero.

He went and got cleaned up but didn’t bother trying to dress up. He pulled on his Shield uniform out of habit, black cargo pants and a black tee shirt. He did leave most of his weapons off at least. He had no idea how Stark and Bruce would feel about living with two assassins once they realized just how many weapons they both carried at all times.

“Jarvis, does Stark have a policy about weapons in the tower?”

“Not that I am aware of, Agent Barton. Are you referencing concealed weapons?”

“Yeah, I mean once Natasha arrives both of us are going to be carrying a small arsenal between us. I don’t want to freak out the rest of the team if they don’t want us openly carrying weapons.”

“I will have to ask Master Stark however as long as the weapons are concealed and you are certified to carry them there should not be an issue.”

“Okay. Thanks, Jarvis.”

Great. He hadn’t even seen the others yet and he was already all for going back to bed. With a sigh he tugged on his Shield jacket and stuffed his gloves into one pocket so he could hit the range later. Picking up his book on a whim he headed down to the common floor, giving Bruce a nod as he settled into a chair in the living room.

“Hope you don’t mind, I ordered some pizzas for lunch. Jarvis suggested something that could be ordered in bulk. Apparently the serum ramped up Captain Rogers’ metabolism so he needs to eat more than normal.”

“That’s fine. When is he getting here?”

“He was just parking a few minutes ago. Should be on his way up any minute.”

“Okay.”

“Are you alright? You look kind of worn out.”  
“I’m good. Just the new place and all. Haven’t gotten comfortable yet.” Clint said forcing a tired smile onto his face. He could do this, he would just have to treat it like a mission. He could fake being okay for an hour or two. He’d danced with Natasha with broken bones before to get out of a target's mansion who had a party in full swing at the time.

The elevator dinged letting a windblown looking Steve Rogers into the room carrying a massive pile of pizza boxes.

“Sorry, I ran into the delivery guy on the way in.”

“Thanks, Steve. Hope you don’t mind that we already ordered.”

“Nah, I’ll eat anything you put in front of me. Between the Army and the depression most of my picky habits got weeded out fast.” He said, bringing the pizza into the kitchen while Bruce dug out plates and silverware.

“You should get along with Barton pretty well then. He said almost the same thing.”

“Were you military before Shield, Agent Barton?”

“Nah, I ran with a few mercenary organizations for a while. Shield sent me through basic army sniper training when I joined though. And you both can drop the Agent or just call me Clint. I’m off duty until medical clears me again.”

“When do they think that will be?”  
“In a month if the seizures hold off.” Clint said taking a plate and looking over the eight different pizza variations available. Deciding to go with a known topping he grabbed a slice of pepperoni and one of vegetarian.

“How are the MREs now? You’ve had them through Shield right?” Steve asked loading his plate with a variety of slices.   
“Every long term surveillance mission I go on.” Clint said with a small grin, “I doubt they’ve changed much.”

“I wasn’t that keen on trying them until I had to.” Steve said with an answering smile.

“You should at least try the new electrolyte gels. Those are more interesting.”

“Any to avoid?”

“I hate the green ones but that was more of a mission gone bad then a personal preference.”

“Interesting story behind that?” Bruce asked with a grin. He’d filled his plate with several slices of cheese and vegetarian.

“Not really. Stuck in a jungle with nothing but green gel for a week. I can’t stand the stuff now.” Clint said with a shrug, following the others and taking a seat at the high bar top.

The talk stayed light and Clint watched in amusement as Bruce and Steve proceeded to put away most of the pizza. He begged off a movie once everyone finished and headed down to the range.

“Pardon the interruption, Agent Barton, Dr. Banner is inquiring if you would like to join them for dinner?”

“Um, no. Please tell him I was planning to cook dinner in my rooms. I’ll see them tomorrow.”

“Very well, Agent Barton. Dr. Banner and Captain Rogers wish you a good meal.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.” Clint said with a small sigh, glancing at the tables weighted with one of every weapon Stark had in his armory that he now needed to clean.

“Jarvis? Can you make sure no one enters the range until I get everything put back up? I don’t want Steve to use an uncleaned weapon.”

“Of course, Agent Barton.”

With a last glance over everything Clint went to his floor. Taking a quick shower and making a small pasta dish that Coulson had always enjoyed he stood at the bar to eat. He barely managed to force down half of his portion but he snagged a protein drink to take with him when he returned to the range.

“Jarvis, can you record things for me as well?”  
“I can, Agent Barton. What do you need listed?”  
“I want to start a spreadsheet of each weapon I use, the serial number, make and year, along with notes on how it handles.”

“I take it that this is a process you undertake?”  
“I run through every weapon each base I’m posted carries at least twice a year.”

“I will start a standing order for any new weapons available from Stark industries or currently in use by our subsidiaries. Master Stark may wish you to assist in projects that R&D are working on.”  
“I do the same for Shield R&D once a year or so when I have a bit of downtime.” He didn’t mention the last time had been because he broke his leg on a mission and was grounded for two months.

“Sir has added the construction of an archery range in the sub-basement levels and would like any recommendations you might have.” Jarvis asked as Clint started efficiently breaking down the first weapon.

“Beyond two ranges, one with standard lanes and one that’s an obstacle course? Right now I’m planning to go back to Shield to start training for recertification once medical clears me. I have to at least score within ten percent of my previous scores or I get bumped another month.”  
“May I ask, what exactly your recertification will entail?”

“I have to recertify on every weapon I already have a certification on. I did that the last two weeks on base.” Clint said ticking things off on his fingers, “I have to do certification flights on all the aircraft I’m certified for. I have to pass a physical exam, written tests on basic skills, the timed obstacle course run, hand to hand combat testing, three staged scenario missions with and without a team, and then up to six months of lower level missions to prove I’m back up to speed.” Clint said, finishing up with cleaning and oiling the first gun and starting the next.

“Have you had to do this process before, Agent Barton?”  
“When I signed up with Shield, after bringing Natasha in against orders, and after Budapest.” Clint said with a small grunt as he forced a sticky part free.

“Is it common procedure at certain points in an agent’s career?”  
“No. Complete recertification is only demanded when the powers that be think the Agent has screwed up majorly. There’s a stripped down version for an Agent coming back from injuries or traumatic events. I’ve had to do that after every major injury.”

“I see. Thank you for the explanation, Agent Barton.”

“No problem, Jarvis. I should probably let you scan my copy of the Shield Manual. Coulson let me know a lot of the unspoken rules over the years and I added notes.”

“I would appreciate it, Agent Barton. It seems like Master Stark and the Avengers will be working with Shield for the foreseeable future.”  
“Yeah, you have to know all the rules to break them, Jarvis. Coulson was a firm believer in that. Listen, let’s start with the weapon spreadsheet, yeah?” Clint asked, his voice rough.

“Of course, Agent Barton.”


	6. Stark

_Stark’s POV_

“Okay, Jarvis babe, give me an update on the tower. How is everyone settling in?” Tony asked, fiddling with a wrench. The workshop attached to his house in Boston was tiny but it let him work on cars while he was in town.

“How’s Brucie doing?”

“Dr. Banner appears to be settling in well. He has started several experiments dealing with reducing or absorbing radiation from a given location.”

“Wonderful. I knew he would love Candy land. And the Captain?”

“Captain Rogers has me assisting him in learning how to use most of the interfaces around the tower. He picks up how to use the new technology surprisingly quickly considering how little exposure he has had since his recovery.”

“Uh-ha, and the Hawk?”

“I am unsure how to equate his behavior since I do not yet have a baseline for his actions.”

“What do you mean, J.? What’s he doing? Is he acting out?”

“No, sir. He is perfectly polite and even cheerful during his interactions with Captain Rogers or Dr. Banner however while alone his behavior changes drastically.”

“How drastic, J? Is he hurting himself?”

“While he is not actively hurting himself, Agent Barton appears to be either dealing with severe depression or PTSD.”

“Give me a rundown of his behavior, Jarvis. What do you think we can do to help?”

“I am honestly not sure how to assist Agent Barton, sir.” Jarvis said his tone soft and regretful, “He is barely eating enough to keep up with his current exercise regimen yet plans to increase his training schedule once he ‘gets his head straight’ as he calls it. He is barely sleeping, instead spending much of his time reading or working with several manuals and textbooks that he brought with him to the tower. He seems to have a dedicated work ethic and a drive to stay constantly busy. He is dedicated to getting recertified for missions with Shield.”

“It sounds like he’s channeling me on a bender. What’s your best guess, J.?”

“Sir, if you ignored the PTSD elements I would say that the agent is grieving.”

“Grieving. Maybe he lost someone in the battle? Pull up his records. I didn’t think he had any family or anything.”

“Agent Barton does not have any living family listed. His medical proxy for the last ten years has been his handler, Agent Phillip J. Coulson.”

“Agent Agent was his handler for ten years? That’s not normal for Shield, right? I thought the assets generally went into a pool or floated between several handlers?”

“That appears to be the general consensus. Agent Barton and Romanov however worked almost exclusively with Agent Coulson only occasionally going on missions with other handlers.”

“Pull up the video for his floor. Is Barton in?”

“He is, sir, but I am not sure the agent would want to be observed right now.”

“Put it up, Jarvis. I need to know what’s going on.”

“Very well, sir.”

The screen opened to a wide angle of the living room. Clint was sitting in one corner surrounded by several books and equipment. He sat, face hidden by his knees, arms hugging his chest as he cried, body shuddering. The sound was off, leaving Tony to guess at how loud the man was being. He doubted there was much to hear.

“What was he doing before this, Jarvis?”

“Agent Barton had offered to scan his copy of the Shield manual into my systems since he had added notes and unlisted regulations. He abandoned the attempt halfway through when he found a section written by Agent Coulson.”

“That’s not the reaction of losing a Handler. That’s losing a lover or really close friend, J.”

“I have been searching through Agent Barton’s file but there is nothing suggesting a relationship between the two men.”

“They’re spies who work for a military organization, Jarvis. I doubt that they’re allowed to shout from the rooftops that they were involved.”

“What would you like me to do, sir?”

“For now, just help him where you can. Remind him to eat like you do for me and I’ll see if I can track down Romanov. Maybe she can tell me how to handle Legolas.”

***

“How did you get this number, Stark? I’m in deep cover. I can’t be overheard talking to you.” Natasha hissed.

“I know and normally I wouldn’t have called but Barton’s not exactly coping well. I need to know what might help.”

“Loki?”  
“Agent Agent.” Natasha cursed softly in Russian.

“They were together for eight years, Stark. He’s going to grieve.”

“According to Jarvis he’s not eating or sleeping much.”

“Are you not in New York?”

“Boston. I’m stuck here until Friday at the earliest.”

“The best thing you can do is give him structure. Shield controlled every second of his days. He probably just doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

“Seriously? I thought you guys had a more flexible schedule than most agents.”  
“We do but Coulson liked to keep us busy.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see what I can do.” Tony paused before plowing on. “Do I need to worry about a suicide watch?”

“No, Clint has his orders. He won’t do that.”

“Good to know.”

“I’m out for at least another month, Stark. If it gets any worse call and I’ll try and get in contact with Clint.” She hung up on him with a harsh click.

“Well, that went well. J, what projects do we have that the hawk can assist with?”


	7. New Clothes

“I don’t like owing people things, Jarvis.” Clint said picking at the soft sweaters that had been delivered to his floor.

“Sir has a standing budget for each floor to cover repairs, needed changes, and groceries. The clothes were paid for using this budget. Also, Sir did not place the order. Miss Potts requested that each resident receive a welcome basket of some kind. The items selected were left up to my discretion with Miss Potts vetoing or recommending other options.”

“I haven’t even met Miss Potts yet, Jarvis. Why would she buy me anything?”

“Miss Potts enjoys giving gifts and I believe she wanted a way to welcome everyone since she could not be in attendance.”

“The other’s accepted?”

“Yes, Dr. Banner was given a teapot and several variations of loose tea that Miss Potts thought he would enjoy. Captain Rogers received a small record collection from the 1940s and a record player. Both seem to be enjoying their gifts.”

Clint gave an unhappy nod but took the box to his bedroom to unpack. There were several pairs of jeans, knitted hat/scarf/gloves in black, and several soft V-necked sweaters like Coulson had worn when they went out of town. Underneath was a handful of worn paperbacks that looked like someone had tossed in several of their favorites without restraint.

He pulled one of the outfits on to test the fit, fiddling with the sleeves. It was warmer, he thought with a small sigh. Ever since he had been controlled by the spear he’d been cold. With a frown he pulled on his jacket over the sweater and went to search the desk for paper and envelopes. Presents needed to be acknowledged and he could at least send Miss Potts a thank you card.

“Would you like me to ensure that your letter reaches Miss Potts, Agent Barton?”

“Please. And let her know I like the clothes if she asks.” Clint said rubbing at his eyes.

“Are you alright, Agent Barton?”  
“Fine. I just have a headache. Waiting on the meds to kick in.” He said with a wan smile. “Are the others on the common floor?”

“Yes, it is about time that Dr. Banner normally starts dinner if you would like to join them.”

“Yeah, might as well.”

Clint headed down to the common floor and waved to the others before collapsing into a chair by the wall of windows. Thankfully the others said nothing about his sudden change in clothing. He wasn’t sure how to react with people suddenly giving him things. Hell, this was the most he had ever owned in his entire life and he could still fit everything in two duffle bags.

His headache kept getting worse, cranking his shoulders tight and making his neck stiff. He watched the people scurry down below them and tried to relax his muscles, rolling his shoulders. He absently stretched one arm and let his hand dangle down his back as he shifted to deepen the stretch.

“Did you mess up your back?” Steve asked as he turned on the TV and had Jarvis find a ballgame to watch.

“Nah, just stiff. You guys decide what we’re having for dinner?”

“You know you can pick something. We really don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m never in town long enough to find any good restaurants. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Jarvis has a pretty good list. Are you craving anything?” Steve said, turning back to watch him.

Clint fought against the sudden need to fidget. He knew they would keep pressing the issue until he started to choose.

“I haven’t had a burger in a while.” He managed thinking about the dietary officer at Shield who’d snuck in the hamburgers for the assets.

“Sounds good. Jarvis?”

“Sir has a standing order at several places in town.” Jarvis said, pulling up three menus for them to peruse. Bruce ordered a vegetarian burger while Steve ordered several variations to try. Clint stuck with as basic a cheeseburger as he could get.

When the food arrived, Clint levered himself out of his chair with a small grunt. His head felt like it was going to fall off. He might need to take some of his migraine medication after dinner if it kept up.

He paused halfway across the floor when he noticed sparkles at the edges of his vision. He heard Steve call his name but he was too distracted. When he started to swallow convulsively he managed to glance up at him with panicked eyes before he was dropped into unconsciousness like someone had pulled his plug.

***

Clint blinked his way back only to find himself in a darkened hospital room. Steve was asleep in one corner and Bruce working away at a tablet. He watched dazed for several long moments before he managed to clear his throat making Bruce jump.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Bruce asked, getting up and checking the machines he was hooked to.

“Okay.” Clint slurred, glancing around the room. “Where’s Coulson? He’s supposed to be here.” Bruce opened his mouth and froze, utterly at a loss. Thankfully Steve woke up and heard the last question.

“He’s out with Natasha on a mission, Clint.” Steve said with a concerned glance at Bruce.

“Oh.” Clint muttered, before a yawn stopped his next question.

“You should get some rest, Clint. I’m sure they will be back when you wake up later.”

“Yeah, okay.” he agreed, tugging at the blankets to curl around a pillow. “Need to wake up for Coulson, though.”

“We’ll make sure you’re up when he arrives, Clint.”  
“Has to tell me my orders.”

“He will, Clint. Rest.”

“Okay.” Clint murmured, swiftly falling back asleep.

“Is he alright?” Steve asked softly, drawing Bruce away from the bed.

“It’s normal to be confused after a seizure. I’m sorry, I froze.” Bruce said, running a hand through his messy curls. “It makes sense that he would expect his handler to be here when he’s in medical, though.” Bruce murmured.

“Yeah, do you know who his new handler is now?”

“No idea, I’m afraid. When is the doctor getting back?”  
“He was on the phone with Shield trying to get them to send over the edited version of Clint’s medical file. At least Tony had the medical floor set up and staffed. I don’t think any of us were planning to use it quite this soon.”

Hours later Clint opened his eyes and slowly sat up, taking in the medical room that was clearly not part of Shield. Bruce was laid out on the couch to one side snoring softly, a tablet loosely clasped to his chest. Someone had changed him out of his new clothes and into a pair of his sleep pants and a long sleeved shirt. He was just about to try and wake Bruce when a nurse came in.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“Like I had another seizure. How long was I out?” Clint muttered pulling himself up farther in the hospital bed and watching from the corner of one eye as Bruce half fell off the couch as he jerked awake.

“You’ve been asleep about ten hours now. I’ll be right back with Dr. Roberts. She’ll want to check you out now that you’re awake.”

“Hey, how are you doing?” Bruce asked, walking over and taking his pulse even as his eyes skimmed over the readouts showing on one wall.

“Fine. We’re still in the tower?”

“Yeah, Tony put in a medical floor in case someone got injured during an Avengers call.”

“Not a bad idea.”

The doctor bustled in, a small Indian woman who went through his check up in a quick no nonsense manner. Bruce moved out of the way and pulled out his phone to send a few text messages. Clint figured he was updating the team on his recovery or something like that.

“Are you in any pain, Agent Barton?” Dr. Roberts asked, running through a few basic range of motion tests.

“Just sore and a bit of a headache still.”

“Scale of one to ten?”

“Three.”

“Your co-workers said that you had a headache before the seizure.”

“Yeah, was heading toward a migraine when the seizures hit.”

“Have you had headaches since your accident?”

“I had a few for about two weeks after...the accident. I woke up with one yesterday and had it until the seizure.”

“What are your normal symptoms before a seizure hits?”  
“Inability to speak or move, swallowing, nausea or aura.”

“Did you have any of those symptoms this time?”

“I noticed sparkles at the edge of my vision right before the lights went out.”

“Do you remember anything since you collapsed?”

“Did I wake up before?”

“You woke up once and thought you were in Shield medical. You were only awake a few minutes.” Bruce offered with an uncertain smile.

“That’s good. Natasha says I talk sometimes but I never remember it.”

“You just asked after a few Agents. No sordid details, sorry.”

“Good, Nat’s been trying to blackmail me but won’t give me any clues.”

“You should be fine to head back to your rooms if you have someone to keep an eye on you tonight.” the doctor said, tapping on the wall and starting to update her notes when a keyboard appeared.

“Does Jarvis count?” Clint asked, heading to the bathroom.

“As he has been the one monitoring your vitals for most of the night I wouldn’t be against it but if you have another seizure in the next twelve hours you are going to be confined to this room for at least a day for observation.”

“Okay. Can I get dressed?”

“Of course. You're free to leave once you’re dressed.”

“Thanks, Dr. Roberts.” Bruce said, handing Clint a stack of clothes when the bathroom door opened.

“Feel free to call me if there are any complications but your last brain scan and ECG match what Jarvis is able to read. Whatever caused the electrical imbalance seems to be resolving itself.” She said, making a slight face at the thin chart she had received from Shield.

“I’ll see if I can get Sitwell to have you read in so you have access to our full medical charts. If you’re going to be treating us after missions you might as well have access.”

“I would appreciate it, Agent Barton. No doctor likes to be making guesses to their patient’s medical history.”

Clint went back into the bathroom to change, happily pulling his necklace out of one boot and putting it back on. His piercing had also been removed again but it sat in his other boot wrapped in a small plastic bag. He would need to clean it before he could put it back in.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but did you find everything?” Bruce asked, his cheeks pink as he glanced down at Clint before looking quickly away.

“Yeah, thanks for saving it. Shield likes to confiscate piercings since they aren't allowed to be worn during missions.” Clint said with a grin, sitting on the couch next to Bruce to pull on his boots.

“I couldn’t help but notice the necklace. Does PC mean anything?” He asked as he started to gather up several newspaper and a few science journals.

“It was a gift from Agent Coulson.” Clint said, swallowing. “It stands for Phil Coulson.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you were close.”

“We were together for eight years. I’d even kind of started thinking of asking him to marry me before everything.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I don’t even think he would have said yes. He was weird like that.” Clint said with a small grin. “He returned all his Eagle Scout badges when they came out against homosexuals. He said he would never marry until every state in the US allowed it.”

“Sounds like he was a wonderful man. Even Tony seemed to consider him a friend.”

“Yeah.” Clint murmured as they left the medical room with a final nod to the waiting staff.

Clint made his way back to his rooms, waving away Bruce’s offer to stay. He left once he checked that Jarvis would continue to monitor Clint for the next few days. Clint got a protein shake and collapsed onto the couch, curling up in one corner.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Coulson now that he was looking at their relationship from the outside. He clung determinedly to the softer memories of the long weekends they sometimes took after missions gone wrong. Phil would get a room at some fancy hotel and they would spend the entire weekend wrapped around each other.

They’d taken short vacations and weekends together about every other year but both of their schedules were just too crazy for anything more than a few days. Leaving with nothing but the clothes on their backs and leaving Shield behind, they became just Clint and Phil, two men who loved each other. It never seemed to last long enough.

That was what he regretted most about their relationship. They’d done everything they could to hide their relationship from Shield. Fraternization was not allowed in any way shape or form with Shield. They would have been separated and sent to work at different bases unless they were married and that had not been an option until recently.

After eight years it was habit to completely separate himself into Clint, Barton, and Hawkeye. Clint was the one in love with Phil and he only was allowed out when they were alone. The rest of the time outside of missions he was Barton. On missions he was Hawkeye and exempt for the rules that Coulson set.

Yes, they had let some of their relationship bleed over in small ways, like how he had sometimes worn a plug at work or when Coulson would pull him into an abandoned area for a quick fuck. Most of the time however Coulson was his handler. He pushed him to exceed his own expectations and to be the best he possibly could in every possible area of his life.

Phil however did not push or take. When they were just Clint and Phil most of the control that Coulson exerted over Barton disappeared. They were content to be gentle with each other and spend hours simply being held. This was what Clint truly missed.

If he had to do it again he would have pushed for them to stop hiding once New York allowed gay marriage. Clint was tired of hiding the one good thing he had going on in his life. He wasn’t sure if he missed having Coulson control most of his life or if he had just gotten so used to it that he no longer knew how to do it on his own.

“Jarvis?” Clint called out uncertainly late that night or early the next morning depending on how you looked at it.

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Sorry to bug you.”

“I am always available if you have a need, Agent Barton. How can I help you?”

“You were programmed to follow Stark’s commands exclusively, right?”

“Yes, my primary directives are to assist Sir in any way I can.”

“But you can take orders from others.” Clint said, scrubbing a hand through his hair and trying to force himself to say the tangled mess of words filling his mind. “Like... if Stark was not here and Miss Potts ordered you to do something that went against his original orders...whose rules would you follow?”

“I believe that I would follow Sir’s orders unless they did not apply to the current situation however I have not had a situation that would require such a decision occur. May I ask why you are asking?”

“I’m just trying to figure something out, Jarvis. I feel like I’ve been answering to a lot of Masters lately and I’m not sure who should have the final say.”

“If you would like to explain I can attempt to assist as I can, Agent Barton.”

“Can you call me Clint right now? I’m technically not reinstated yet, Jarvis.”

“As you wish, Clint. How can I help you?”

“I’m not sure if you can or not, Jarvis. I just….I spent the last ten years following Shield and Coulson. They had the final say on everything I did. Hell, Coulson controlled pretty much every aspect of my life. He controlled my training schedule, what I ate, dressed in, what missions I went on. You name it, he probably checked off on it at some point.” Clint said with a huff. “Then when we started seeing each other he took over my off time too. I don’t think I’ve spent a day without him controlling some aspect of it in over eight years. And now he’s not here.”

“Have you considered that this may be an opportunity to learn to choose such actions for yourself, Clint?”

“I’ve been trying, Jarvis. Not exactly going very well right now.” He said with a small hysterical sounding laugh.

“If I may, Clint, you have been under a rather large amount of stress since arriving at the tower. I believe Miss Potts would advise you to take care of yourself at the moment and to not worry about how others perceive you while you are still finding your balance.”

“Smart lady.” Clint said with a sniffle.

“Dr. Banner is still awake, Clint. Would you like me to see if he would like to talk?”

“Only if he wants too, Jarvis.” he said wiping at his face.

“He is on his way up, Clint. Shall I turn on a few lights?”

“Sure, and I guess I should get the kettle going or something.” Clint muttered, peeling himself out of the deep couch and getting the electric tea kettle filled and running. It had just clicked off when Bruce came in.

“Hey, Clint. Couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really. I have some green tea, I think, if you want some.”

“That would be good, thanks.”

Clint busied himself making tea and handed Bruce a mug. Bruce settled into an armchair while Clint returned to curl into a corner of the couch. He found himself relaxing into the soft leather as they sat in silence.

“Sorry to drag you out of bed.” Clint said after they had been sitting for a while.

“I was already up. Nightmares are kind of a thing with the Hulk.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s kind of nice actually to know that someone else is up and about.”

“Yeah. I’ve always been a bit of a night owl.”

“Well, you’re welcome to check and see if I’m up. Between having to check on the lab and the Hulk I’m normally up and about pretty early.”

“Good to know.” Clint said with a small smile, sipping at his tea.

“Was there something you wanted to talk about or were you just looking for company?”

“Just tired of trying to sleep.” He said with a sigh. “Just the normal nightmares, nothing new.”

They sat in silence drinking tea for a while before Bruce asked his next question.

“What do you normally do when you have a nightmare or can’t sleep? I have to admit, that tea and a book are normally my go to fix.”

“When it got really bad Phil would get a room for the weekend and just hold me for two days. Can’t really get that now.” Clint said with a bitter laugh rolling the bead on his necklace between two fingers.

“I’d offer a hug but the Hulk still isn’t doing that great with prolonged contact.” Bruce offered, fiddling with his tea cup.

“Thanks but I’m okay. Just thinking too much probably.”

“Do you mind if I ask what exactly been on your mind? Sometimes talking these things out can help you figure out a better way to progress forward.”

“Yeah.” Clint muttered, sinking farther back into the couch. They sat together silent for a while. Bruce got up and brought the pot of tea back to the table, refilling both their cups. The tea had cooled just enough to be drinkable when Clint finally started talking.

“I’m just messed up since the attack on Pegasus. I got taken and used and I woke up to find that a lot of my friends had died, some at my hand. Phil died trying to get me back. And somehow I’m still here but he’s not and I don’t know what to do any more.” he said, leaning to set his empty mug on the table. “Phil would want me to stay with Shield and keep fighting. He would love that I became an Avenger working with the team but I can’t get reinstated with Shield until the seizures sort themselves out so I’m benched for at least another six weeks and having to save the world with the Avengers is not exactly going to be a once a week thing. I don’t know what to do with the down time.”

“So you need something to do?” Bruce asked softly watching at the archer fidgeted with his cuffs.

“Yeah, Phil liked to keep his agents busy. I haven’t had a week with nothing to do since last time I was grounded by medical with a broken leg. Even then Phil had me helping with paperwork and remote surveillance missions I could work on from base within a few days.”

“You’ve kept busy since you came to the tower that I’ve seen. You always seem to be in the gym or reading something. I know you’re not going on missions but doesn’t training count as being busy?”

“Yeah, Phil would have wanted me to keep up my training and it keeps me in shape for the Avengers in case we get called out.”

“Do you mind if I ask, how old are you?”

“I’ll be thirty one this year.” He gave a slight grin when Bruce gaped at him. “Yeah, everyone says I look older than I am.”

“So you were twenty when you started working for Shield?”

“Yeah, I left the circus at fifteen after I got injured and started doing freelance work where I could get it. I was doing pretty badly when Phil found me and offered me a job.”

“And you were with Shield ten years?”

“Almost eleven now.” he said with a rueful grin, most people just assumed he had joined Shield at twenty five or thirty, thinking he was in his late thirties or even early forties.

“When’s your birthday anyway? Have we missed it? I was thinking about it and we should do something for everyone’s birthdays at least. Most of us have had too many bad ones, I think.” Bruce said with a small huff.

“June 16th. When is yours?”

“December 18th.”

“And Steve’s is July 4th. When is Tony’s, Jarvis?”

“Sir’s birthday is May 29th.”

“We’ll have to make sure we have at least a cake or something. Maybe a favorite meal ordered in. Did Natasha and Phil ever do birthdays with you?”

“Not really. Natasha doesn’t know when her birthday is so we kind of avoided the topic. We normally did random things, like the day she was officially recruited to Shield or she would drag us out saying ‘It’s been six months since any of us were majorly injured so we’re going out.’” He said grinning fondly as he remember the last time she had dragged them out to an impromptu dinner. He missed his work partner but he knew she was working an op that needed her touch.

“You said you were looking for things to do but you seem busy to me, Clint. Is there anything else causing an issue?”

“Maybe.” he wrapped his arms around himself, curling deeper into the couch, “I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you seem to be doing fine to me. Yeah, you’ve skipped a few meals but we all do that either with Steve training too long and getting up to eat at three am or me getting caught up in the lab.”

“Between Shield and Phil I’ve been on a strict training schedule and diet for years now. I haven’t had to decide what to do with anything in over a decade.” Clint gripped the back of his neck, hunching deeper into the couch. “Everyone keeps asking me to decide on things and I have no idea what to say. You wanted me to order Thai that first night but I’d never had it. I had no idea how to fit it into my diet.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

“It’s fine. I’ve worked that out with Jarvis.” He said getting up and starting to pace along the dark expanse of windows. “So the food’s not really an issue any more but I get locked up when you guys ask me to pick a movie or a place to eat out or...or anything. It’s making me nuts. I went out trying to pick up some things for my floor and I froze, there were too many choices.”

“Well, I was kind of the same way after living outside the US for so long. When I came back everything was overwhelming. The options and choices are rather extreme.” Bruce said slowly, like he was sounding out what he said in his mind first.

“What did you do?”

“I picked one thing I was going to try every day. Either a new tea or a new store to wander through. It did not have to be anything big and if I was having a bad day I was allowed to retreat back to my lab as soon as I finished but it slowly got better.”

“That’s good to know.”

“And you can let us know when you’re too burnt out to choose something. I might mention something to Steve about my travel burnout and see if he is going through the same thing. He’s trying to adjust to 70 years of changes after all. Just the choices of ice cream available since then is crazy.”

“Yeah.” Clint nodded, dropping back onto the couch. “Where did he disappear to, anyway? Wasn’t he on the medical floor at one point?”

“Tony got called into Shield to work on something and Steve tagged along to see if he could help. They should be back sometime tomorrow if everything goes well.”

“When did Tony get in?”

“About an hour after your first seizure.”

“Oh. Did you want more tea?” Clint asked, picking up the pot and heading back to the kitchen.

“No, actually. I’m good.” Bruce said fighting back a yawn.

“I kind of did have an ulterior motive when I asked if you could come down.” Clint said with a wince. “The docs gave me a new cream for my scars a few days ago but I can’t reach most of my back to use it. I have to put it on twice a day. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Did you want me to put it on now?”

“Or just in the morning if you want.”

“We might as well get it out of the way if you haven’t been applying it. It kind of is morning at this point.”

“Sorry for keeping you up.”

“It’s no trouble, I was already up and about anyway.”

“Right, let me go grab it.” Clint quickly went and grabbed the cream, handing it to Bruce as he came back into the living room and took a seat on the arm of the couch.

“Have you already applied it for today?”

“No, I was going to do it once you did my back.” Clint said, stripping out of his hoodie and tee-shirt, leaving himself naked from the waist up.

“What is this cream supposed to do exactly?”

“It’s supposed to make the scars less noticeable, blend them in more.” Clint muttered trying not to flinch as Bruce began to apply the cream to his heavily scarred back.

“I’ll do the rest.” he said, grabbing the tube of cream and heading to his bathroom. He paused just before the door and managed to force out a rasping “Thanks.”

“No problem. Just come get me in the morning when you need to put it on again.”


	8. Missions and Ultimatums

Two weeks later, Clint was dragged out of his novel by his Shield cell phone going off. He scrambled out of the nest of blankets and pillows he’d placed next to the floor to ceiling windows and snatched his phone off of the coffee table. Answering with a gruff, “Barton.” he listened for a moment before replying “Yes, sir.” and hanging up.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“I just got called in to consult on a mission. I’ll probably be staying on base for a day or two. Can you let the others know if they ask?”

“Of course, Agent Barton. Do you wish for me to send for a cab?”

“Yeah, I need to get there two hours ago.” Clint said grabbing up his uniform and starting to change.

Once again swathed in Shield black he snatched his go bag out of the closet along with his bow case and hit the elevator at a jog. He tied his boots as it descended to the lobby before bolting out and flagging down the cab just as it reached the curb. Ducking in he tossed a handful of bills at the driver and waived his badge to ensure a quick trip.

Five days later Clint dropped into his bunk at the New York base with a groan. What had started as a simple consult had turned into a three day mission on the other side of the country. He had not had any sleep beyond a few hours of light dozing in three days, most of that time spent soaking wet and freezing in an isolated perch relaying troop movements to a remote Shield waystation.

He’d spent the last day helping with cleanup once the Hydra base was overtaken before hopping a red eye flight back to New York on a supply plane. A quick shower and protein bar later he was in his bunk trying to will his muscles to relax enough that he could sleep. A steady banging on his door, snapped him up with a gun in one hand before his brain had time to catch up.

He didn’t bother to put up the gun, snatching the door open. He blurrily took in the forms of his team mates staggered near the door in the narrow hallway.

“Steve? Are we being called out?” he asked, blinking in the light from the hallway.

“I told you this was a bad idea. We should have let him sleep.” Bruce said, moving away from Steve to stand next to Tony against one wall.

“I thought you were still grounded by medical.” Steve said flatly, looming slightly. Clint huffed and tucked the gun into the back of his sweats ignoring the twitch from Bruce at the sight of the weapon, ducking behind Tony’s shoulder slightly.

“Even medical’s trumped by Fury, Steve. He orders, you jump.”

“Even if it’s to your death?”

“I’m fine, not even a scratch. It was a cakewalk mission.” Clint said with a shrug, “Why should I’ve even tried to turn it down?”

“Because you weren’t fit to be in the field.” Steve said gesturing sharply with one hand.

“I’m fine.” Clint snapped, fighting against his temper.

“So you just do whatever Shield orders? No matter the cost?”

“Of course not. Listen, I’m exhausted and I frankly don’t understand the problem here.”

“The problem is that you were medically grounded and went on a mission without discussing it with the team.”

“Why would there be any discussion? It was a Shield mission, not a team matter.”

“What if we had been called out while you were out working for Shield? What if we needed you?”

“What if Tony is out of town on a business trip? What if Natasha’s out on a mission? Oh, wait, she is! You can’t count on full attendance at all times, Steve!”

“Exactly, we are already two men down and you left without even leaving a note!”

“I told Jarvis I was headed to base for a mission!”

“Yeah, a consult, not spending a week out of the country!”

“Five days and I wasn’t out of the country!”

“We can’t have you dividing your time between Shield and the team, not if Shield is going to abuse you like this.”

“Last time I checked I was a Shield agent, not your lackey!”

“Then you need to choose who you work for, Shield or the Avengers!”

Clint opened his mouth to snarl something back and went still when nothing came out. He heaved a breath but the words were gone. Tony was ranting something in the background at Steve but the sound was off. He blinked at Steve for a breathe, a soft call from Bruce turning to gibberish as darkness overtook him.

***

Clint slowly opened his eyes to the medical ward with a small sigh. He hated being in medical. Fury was arguing with a group of people to one side of the room. He absently wondered what he had done to get the big isolation room, normally he was in a tiny berth since medical knew he would not be staying long.

“Sir,” He slurred, watching as everyone spun to face him.

“Agent Barton. What’s your status?”

“Drugged, sir.” Clint murmured shifting in bed and glancing around the room.

“You know the drill, Agent.” Fury said looking at him expectantly. Clint rattled off his serial number with another sigh. “Coulson coming?”

“He’s coordinating a mission with Sitwell. He’ll be by once he finishes.”

“He’d want me to do the orders. He always insists.”

“Fine. What orders did you break this time?”

“I can’t remember.” Clint said after a moment feeling panic start to make his heart beat race. He had to have been on a mission but he doesn’t remember leaving base.

“How about you list the orders out, Barton. I’ll tell you if you broke any.”

“That’s cheating, I think.” Clint said fuzzily, blinking at Fury.

“Phil can punish me later.” Fury, no, Marcus said with a sad smile. It wasn’t often that Fury let his masks drop, especially in front of strangers. “What are your orders?”

“I’m not allowed to die on a mission. Phil doesn’t allow it.”

“That’s rule one,” Fury agreed with a sigh, “and you clearly passed.”

“I’m not allowed to skip medical unless Phil gave me permission.”

“Rule two and you are in medical so you didn’t skip.” Fury agreed, watching his agent with concern as he slurred his way through each statement.

“Right.” Clint said swallowing and glancing around the room for a moment. Fury clearing his throat brought him back. “Rule three, eat at least two meals a day. I don’t know if I did or not.”

“Knowing you, probably not.” Fury said with a snort, “I’ll let Phil take it out on you later.”

“Rule four, follow Shield hierarchy while on a mission or on base. Outside of that they can kiss my ass.” Someone else in the room gave a bark of laughter at that distracting Clint but Fury pulled his attention back with a sharp snap of his fingers.

“Next?”

“Rule five, always ask permission, especially before I jump off a roof. I probably broke that one.”

“You normally do.” Fury agreed with a faint hint of a grin.

“There’s more but I don’t remember them right now.” Clint slurred, yawning widely.

“That’s fine for now, Agent. Get some rest.”

“Okay, sir.”

“Are we allowed to ask what that was?” Tony asked, gesturing between Clint and Fury.

“A personal matter between Agent Barton and his handler.” Fury snapped, gesturing for them to follow him into the hallway.

“Yeah, no. What kind of handler orders his asset to eat?”

“The kind at his wits end.” Fury snapped, “Barton arrived at our facility after a six month chase across four continents. He was underweight, malnourished, and had been abused by everyone around him until he wouldn’t trust you to tell him the weather.”

“He’s one of the most skilled agents in this organization but he brought most of those skills with him when he joined. We had nothing to offer him beyond paid employment and three solid meals a day. He didn’t trust us enough to not poison him in the mess or to not shot him in the head if he lost his usefulness. Coulson created the orders to keep him sane and healthy enough to mend. It became something of a joke between them over the years.”

“Like needing permission to jump off a roof?” Bruce said slowly.

“Exactly. Barton needed structure in his life so that’s what Coulson gave him. Between the seizures, Loki, and Coulson's death, Barton has had the ground yanked out from under him, people. If he’s falling back on his orders until he finds his feet I can only think it’s a good thing.” He said his voice full of exasperation. “I’m sure you can all agree that this conversation doesn’t go any farther?”

“What a minute! What about Clint doing double time with Shield and the Avengers? We need a decision!” Steve pressed, expression going dark.

“The final decision would rest with Barton, Rogers, and I doubt you want to push him on it.” Fury snapped, eying the angry man before him. “I will have the legal team and his Handler, Sitwell, work on a new contract including his work with the Avengers and subsequent downtime from any missions you go on as a team but it will be up to him to decide if he wants to limit his missions with Shield.” Fury said, telling the approaching doctor to keep him updated as he strode away.

“When are we moving him to the tower?” Steve asked scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, no. We’re not moving him.” Tony snapped from where he was leaned against the wall, arm crossed over his chest.

“What? Why not?”

“Seriously? You barged into his room, waking him up after four days on a mission where he got to sit on a building outside in the rain for three days with little to no sleep. You argue him into a seizure when he’s already strung out and exhausted and you want us to move him to the tower while he’s not capable of consenting for it? No way in hell. You really want to move him, you can wait until he’s actually capable of saying no.” Tony snapped, pushing past Steve and back into Clint’s room.

“Don’t you think he needs to dedicate his time to the team?” Steve asked, glancing at Bruce.

“Clint has spent the last ten years working for Shield. I think he’s the one who is going to make that decision.” Bruce said with a sigh. He turned and started down the hall toward the cafeteria, maybe he’d pick up some snacks for everyone, and low blood sugar could be making them agitated, maybe. Steve watched him go for a moment before taking a deep breath and heading the opposite direction.

***

Clint was awake and getting cleaned up when Bruce got back to the room. He paused watching the two men studiously ignoring each other as Clint pulled on a shirt before heading in with a snort. He handed Tony a coffee but left the rest of the snacks bagged at the slight green tint to Clint’s face.

“Steve still sulking?” Bruce asked, dropping into the couch next to Tony.

“He went to the gym, more things to punch.” Tony grunted, jabbing at his tablet.

“Do I even want to know what you guys are arguing about? Is this about the mission?” Clint asked, toeing on his boots untied.

“No, we had no issue with you going on a mission for Shield. Well, I kind of did since you were still medically grounded but you know your limits and you did fine on the mission itself, so…”

“We were more there to make so nobody came to blows then to participate in the argument.” Tony put in with a frown, tapping at his diagram.

“Steve was just concerned that you were doing too much between Shield and the team.” Bruce added, trying to get the conversation back on track.

“Well, the team is not exactly doing a lot right now.” Clint pointed out with a huff.

“Fury said he would get Agent Sitwell and the Shield lawyers to review your contract, see if you need a new one for working with the Avengers. I can get mine to take a look as well if you need an outside point of view.” Tony offered, taping out some kind of email.

“Might not be a bad idea.” Clint agreed with a sigh, more decisions to make.

“Well, let us know if you need any help going over the contracts or weighing the options.” Bruce said with a worried frown, “Has the doctor said when you can leave yet?”

“As soon as the paperwork is filled out.”

“Did you want a ride back to the tower or are you going to bunk here?”

“I have a few bolt holes in the city. I was going to run some errands and head back to the tower in a day or so.”

“You sure you want to be wandering around alone so soon after having a seizure?”

“I’m keeping my phone on and the sensors. Jarvis can monitor me if you guys want to be paranoid.”

“Considering one of us caused this episode I think we have a right to be a bit paranoid.” Bruce offered with a small smile. “Let me know when you are heading back?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Bruce, Tony.”

“No problem. Let us know if you need anything, Hawk-butt.”

“Very funny, Metal-dick.” Clint snarked back gathering up his things.

An hour later he was on his bike with a small backpack headed for one of his lesser known bolt holes in town. It was a tiny attic in a rundown neighborhood but it was enough for a few nights stay. Not even Natasha and Phil had heard about this one. He needed some distance to consider his options.

Did he even want to stay with Shield now that Phil was no longer there to support him? Hell, did he want to stay with the Avengers? He could strike out on his own again but that had not worked out well for him the first time.

He wished Natasha was here to lay out the facts for him, she always knew how to eliminate every option except the most crucial for him. He had a burner number for her but it was only for world ending situations and she would kill him if he messed up her mission for something stupid. Digging out a notepad he started making lists of pros and cons for each option. He could do this, he just needed to make a decision. How hard could that be?


	9. Lists

Clint woke to the soft beeping of a message on this phone. He was curled on the floor surrounded by balls and torn bits of paper. Right, the lists. Gathering up his final list and tossing the rest he stretched and went to change clothes.

His phone beeped at him again making him sigh. He dug it out to find messages from Bruce, Tony, and Jarvis, reminders of his exercise and meal schedule and emails from Shield filled the rest of the screen. It flashed just as he finished clearing out all the notifications with an incoming call.

“Yes?”

“Agent Barton, I apologize for the interruption but Sir insisted that I contact you once you were awake. The others are planning a team dinner tonight and would like you to attend.” Jarvis said, his voice sounding softly apologetic at having to follow his creator’s whims

“Shit, yeah.” Clint scrubbed a hand through his hair with a groan. “I’ll head back to the tower tonight. I still have some things to get done.”

“Of course, sir. I will let the others know.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.” He said with a sigh.

He started going through his messages and gave a soft groan at the single sentence from Steve.

_You will speak to me when you return. - Captain Steve Rogers_

“Great, now he’s ordering me to talk to him. I’m starting to think the Captain thing’s went to his head.” He grumbled. “Do you know if Steve and the others read my files at all, Jarvis?”

“While I know Master Stark has reviewed at least the basics of all the team members I cannot say if Captain Rogers had done so before he came to the tower. May I ask why you are concerned, Agent Barton?”

“I’m not exactly known for following orders in the field, Jarvis. Coulson gave me free rein on missions to make snap decisions and changes to any command if I saw a better option. I don’t think the Captain is going to like that kind of field work.”

“If I may, Agent Barton, Captain Rogers appears to be falling back onto his service training while he adjusts to the current time.”

“I get that, you have no idea how much I get that, Jarvis, but if he keeps trying to pull rank on me I’m going to wind up trying to take him out. I doubt I’m going to get kudos from anyone if Cap takes a fist to the throat mid-mission. Hell, technically I’ve been in the military longer than he has.”

Clint finished getting dressed and cleaned up, munching on a protein bar while chatting with Jarvis about the book he’d been reading and his plans for the day. He tucked in a pair of earbuds and kept up with conversation as he started his morning run. It was nice to have someone to discuss books and recipes with like a normal person, Clint mused, even if that someone was an AI.

He said goodbye and put up his phone as he reached his next safe house. This one at least had a shower he could use. An hour later he was on the other side of town tracking down an old contact. He wanted to put some feelers out to see if anyone would be willing to take him on after ten years out of the game. He didn’t really want to go back to working solo but it was still an option. At each safe house he hit, he grabbed weapons and a few burner stashes that he’d saved for hard times. He’d decide if he actually needed them later, be prepared and all that.

He was not sure the Avengers were going to be able to stay a team if Rogers kept pushing. He was the first person to admit that having structure and rules in his life was the only way he stayed sane but having another person trying to take that control again was just pissing him off. He was only just starting to realize just how much he had given up to Coulson over the years and he wasn’t sure he could give that much of himself to anyone else.

Rogers was reminding him too much of Loki reaching in and forcing his control over Clint. The more they interacted the more Clint was left aching to punch the superior look right off his chiseled jaw. He knew that Captain America had been Coulson’s hero but Steve Rogers needed a good kick in the ass.

Clint flitted back through town using his training to duck traffic cams and other forms of surveillance more out of habit than any need. He took his stash up to his floor on the tower using the service elevators but expected to be ambushed the second he hit the door any way.

“I must inform you, Agent Barton, that Sir insisted I inform him as soon as you arrived. Captain Rogers requested the same.”

“I’m just here to drop off some things, Jarvis. I’ll be back for dinner.”

“I will inform them however Captain Rogers is already on his way up.”

“Wonderful. Thanks any way, Jarvis.”

“Would you like me to call out for some lunch, Agent Barton?”

“No, Jarvis. I doubt I’m going to be staying long.”

“Very well, sir.”

Clint sighed and finished gathering up his things. He heard the door open and shut in the entryway. Apparently the Captain was too rushed to bother knocking. He finished tucking a few necessities in to a go bag before carrying it out into the living room. Steve was waiting for him next to the couch.

“Agent Barton.” He said stiffly, falling into parade rest in front of Clint.   
“Rogers.” Clint said, letting his mask snap firmly into place.

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“I was on my way back out.”

“It will only take a moment.” He said eying the weapons that Clint was sorting with a look of disappointment that left Clint fighting off a sneer, “I’m concerned about you splitting your time between Shield and the team.”

“You made that clear yesterday on base.” Clint said, keeping his tone as even as he could.

“Have you made your decision to cut ties with Shield then?” A small grin gracing his face as he assumed that Clint was agreeing with him.

“No, I want to talk to Tony’s lawyers and have them look over the Shield contracts first.”

“Serving two masters is not a role a soldier can play, Barton.”

“And you think you’re going to be the other master, Rogers?” Clint asked, forcing himself to put up the last knife and not play with it even if he did feel better with a weapon on hand.  
“As the team leader…”

“Yeah, you can stop right there. You may be the leader on paper and help with our training scenarios but you’re not my superior. Shield owns the Avengers and I answer to them. You want to pull rank? I’m a level seven Shield agent, Rogers. Only Director Fury and level eight agents such as A.D. Hill out rank me.”

“So you’re going to side with Shield.” He said every line of his body displaying his disapproval.

“I haven’t decided yet. I’m not making a decision until I have all the information, Rogers. Something you should have done before starting this conversation.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the last person who tried to order me around without earning my respect first took an exploding arrow to the face.”

“Are you threatening me, Agent Barton?” Steve asked, stepping forward into Clint’s space.

“Promising, Rogers. You keep pushing and I won't hesitate.” Clint bit out looking up at the taller man.

“You’re a loose cannon, Barton. You don’t belong on this team if you can’t keep control of yourself.”

“Trust me, Rogers. This is restrained.” Clint snapped, snatching up his bag.

He darted around the Captain and made his way to the elevator. Leaning against the wall he restrained himself from punching anything. He didn’t want to damage Jarvis or the only home he had right now even if it didn’t feel much like a home at times like this.

“Jarvis, can you tell Bruce and Tony I’ll see them tomorrow?”

“I take it you will be missing dinner?”  
“Only if Rogers is attending. He just doesn’t know when to back off.” Clint said softly fighting against the urge to collapse into a corner. “I’m going to go for a walk, Jarvis. I’ll be back later.”

“Very good, Agent Barton. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Jarvis.”

He made his way out of the tower and let his feet carry him where they would. He needed some time to center himself. He couldn’t be falling apart this easily if he wanted to be part of the Avengers or even Shield. Hours later he was deep in central park, limp against a sun drenched boulder.

The more Clint fought to be independent and start living his life on his own, the more everyone around him seemed to want to control him. He had grown used to having someone always watching his back, watching over his shoulder and directing his path. He wasn’t sure he wanted that any more. His phone pinged softly with a message and he tugged it out with a sigh.

_On base. -NR_

_Commons and Leech? -C_

_Yes. - NR_

He grinned and gave a small chuckle as he sent her a text in response. He might as well pick up a few things for dinner before she arrived. If she just got back it could be a few hours if she had not already debriefed.

The safe house was an old one that Phil had shared with them after Natasha joined the team. A loft apartment with two bedrooms, it was more roomy then most of the other options in town. He started up the oven and started assembling a lasagna, garlic bread, and salad while he waited.

He was just pulling out the garlic bread as she came in. He took in her tired looking eyes and the small cuts on her hands that betrayed how long the mission had been. Clint gestured her towards the table and filled a plate.

He let her eat most of the meal in silence, sipping at his water while she slowly drank her red wine. They kept the conversation to small things, gossip from the Helicarrier and the latest toys out of R&D. Once she polished off the last bite of bread he started cleaning up the plates.

“The mission go okay?”

“Not too bad. Sitwell was pleased with the outcome.”

“But you weren’t?”

“It would have went smoother if you’d been there.”

“Sorry I missed it.”

“How long until you can retest?”

“Another five weeks if I don’t have another seizure.”

“Did you get the memo about tomorrow?”

“No, are we being called in?” He asked, pulling out his phone and thumbing through his email.

“Fury’s calling in the entire team. Mandatory meeting.” she said giving him a small frown. Meetings outside of mission briefs tended to mean bad news.

“No rumors as to why?”

“Nothing I’ve heard.” She said finishing off her wine, “I did hear that you and the Captain have been on the outs. Something about screaming at each other in the halls?”

“Rogers is being an ass. He’s demanding that I chose between Shield and the Avengers. He thinks we can’t do both.”

“He might have a point. Shield does normally keep us rather busy and the more we work with the Avengers the more public exposure we are going to get. Hard to be a spy when everyone knows your face.”

“Yeah. Can you look at something for me?” he asked, pulling out his list and letting her open the folded paper.

“Do I need to ask how you’ve been doing?” she asked softly, reviewing his messy scrawl.

“I just need an opinion. Everyone seems intent on making me choose a side. You know I see better from a distance, Tasha. I’m too close to this to unravel it.”

“Would you be willing to leave Shield?”

“I don’t know. Shield’s been home for ten years now but with Coulson gone it’s just not the same.”

“So you would be willing to leave?”

“Maybe. The Avengers seems to be a lot of downtime so far. Rogers talks a good game but we aren’t even doing training sessions together.”

“I take it he wants both of us to decide.”

“I would think so but he hasn’t flat out said it.”

“And if we prefer to continue to work both sides?”

“He never offered that as an option, Fury did however.”

“Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

“So you haven’t kicked his ass yet?”

“Not yet. Starting to seriously think about it.” Clint said with a sigh, “I know he was Coulson’s hero but his my way or the highway speeches are getting ridiculous.”

“Want me to offer to spar with him?”

“Only if you actually want to. He’s probably got a thing about hitting girls.”

“Even better. I’ll ask him after the meeting tomorrow.”

“You get to have all the fun.” He tells her with a mock sigh.

“You could always put him on his back instead.”

“If I sparred with him right now I’m going to take out something vital or leave the good Captain with a broken arm. Not the best idea.”

“Only if I don’t get to watch.”

“I’ll make sure if it does happen you get a front row seat.” Clint said dryly, “Do you want more wine?”

“No, would you go solo again?”

“I don’t want to but I could. I have enough savings even to take a few years off and just wander for a while.”

“You’d be bored in two days.”

“I’m bored now, Tasha. Shield won’t let me work and the Avengers are on standby until something big comes along. There’s only so much training and prep you can do. I feel like I’m going to lose my edge if I don’t get back out there soon.”

“I’ll talk to Sitwell and Fury. There’s got to be something they can bring you in on.”

“I did an in and out for Fury last week. That’s when Rogers started freaking out.”

“So he’s not going to support more missions.”

“Not unless he manages to get his head out of his ass.”

“I’ll talk to Sitwell and Rogers tomorrow after the meeting. Then we can run through your options.”

“Thanks, Tasha.”


	10. Piercings and Appointments

Clint cursed softly as followed the others into the decontamination showers. Bruce and Tony had insisted that he join them for breakfast out that morning since he’d skipped out on dinner the night before. They’d just left the car when someone decided to douse the three of them with a radioactive flour bomb. Yeah.

It had taken seconds for Clint to take their attacker out only for them to have to stand around waiting on the decontamination unit to arrive and start clean up. Steve had been working crowd control and gotten exposed somehow as well so he joined them in the showers.

He glanced down at his white dusted jeans and sighed. There was a serious chance that he was never getting this outfit back. Clint forced himself to ignore the others as he started to strip. Tossing his shirt into the waiting bag he ignored the soft gasp behind him as Steve or Tony saw his back in all its glory. He was pretty sure it was Steve.

He toed off his boots and socks before shucking off his pants and boxers as casually as he could. He tossed his clothes into the growing pile and turned to face the others who were mostly undressed. Tony had not stopped complaining since the bomb exploded over them but he fell silent as he took in Clint’s scars, front and back. Bruce was already naked and heading into the shower when he paused in the doorway.

“Ah, Clint you forgot something.” Bruce said making a vague gesture at his neck.

“Thanks.” He muttered unlatching his necklace and carefully adding it to a small evidence bag.

“Ah, one more.” Bruce said with a grin and blushed, ducking through the door. Clint blushed a bit himself as he unhooked his piercing and added it to the bag.

“That didn’t hurt?” Steve asked looking slightly scandalized and beet red.

“Not for long.” Clint offered gruffly, brushing past him and into the showers. “Hey, Stark. Think you can pull rank and get us out early? I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t we all, Hawkass. I mean seriously! I have a company to run, people!”

“I thought that was Pepper.” Bruce put in as he snagged the next bucket of soap and started lathering up.

“Har-de-Har-Har. I’m surrounded by jokers.”

“Fools to the left of me,” Bruce muttered with a small grin before ducking back under the water.

“So any word on why you were attacked?” Steve asked, ducking into the cold water with a shudder.

“Considering the guy was ranting about Stark industries even as our Hawk laid him out I’d say this one’s on me.” Tony said with a grimace. “Only good thing I can see is that they had to postpone that meeting with Fury until tomorrow.”

Once they were all given a clean bill of health by medical they debriefed for another two hours before being dismissed. Clint tried to ignore the fact that Steve made a beeline for Sitwell once the meeting wrapped up. Rogers had spent most of the time since the showers staring at Clint like he was trying to remember where each scar sat.

Clint was just happy no one had questioned his marred body. He’d gotten routine questions over the years about the scar covered tattoo that his brother had tried to carve out of his shoulder or the belt marks his Father had left across his back. The bite marks and hand prints just added to the visual jumble and all but pushed people to question what could have caused them.

“Heading out?” Natasha asked, sliding up and handing him a backpack. He unzipped it and glanced inside to see his boots with the evidence bag peeking out of the top of one.

“I have an appointment to get to. Spar tomorrow?” He asked giving her a small smile of thanks.

“At the tower?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you there.”

“Katniss! You coming for late lunch?” Tony called out, clapping Clint on one shoulder.

“I have somewhere to be. I’ll see you guys for breakfast at the tower tomorrow.”

“Promises, promises. You’re making waffles if you’re late.”

“Deal.”

Once he was out of the building, Clint dismantled his phone so that he couldn’t be tracked. The last thing he wanted was for Stark or Rogers to show up. He was starting to think this had been a bad idea but at this point he was too frustrated not to at least try.

Few people realized that Shield had a contingency plan for everything, even prostitution. If an agent felt that they were too compromised to date safely they could call the service and have an escort keep them company for the night. All the men and women from the agency were stringently background checked and contracted to nondisclosure and silence about the encounters and their partners.

Clint hadn’t been allowed to touch himself outside of missions for the last eight years. Every time he’d tried since Phil’s death either left him in tears or giving up in frustration. He had started having wet dreams again in the last few weeks and waking up hard with no relief in sight was fraying his already tested temper.

He arrived at the nondescript high end hotel a bit early and got checked in. The room was a small suite with a stocked bar and large bed. Clint cased the place out of habit and hid a few weapons since paranoia was never a bad thing in his line of work. He showered and prepared himself slightly before pulling on a nicer pair of slacks and a t-shirt. Toeing off his boots and socks he poured himself a drink while he waited.

Ten minutes later he let Jonathan into the room. While the requests could be specific Clint had simply asked for a male escort. He had to admit the other man was good looking, slim and tall with pale skin and dark eyes and hair.

“Do you mind if we get the preliminaries out of the way first?” He asked as Clint poured him a drink.

“Not at all.” Clint agreed handing him a scotch.

“What are your limits? I want to know what to avoid.” He said, slowly removing his tie and suit jacket.

“The t-shirt stays on, no reaching under it.” Clint said, draining his own glass and setting it to the side.

“Anything else?” Jonathan asked, taking a seat and calmly taking off his shoes and socks so that he matched Clint for what he was wearing.

“Don’t try and pin me down or restrain me in any way.”

“Common enough.” Jonathan said with a nod, “Top or bottom?”

“Bottom.” Clint paused for a moment before forcing it out. “My Dom died in the Battle of New York.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Have you been with anyone since?”

“No.”

“I’m honored.” Jonathan rumbled softly, his eyes serious. “Do you need it rough?”

“No, I…” Clint swallowed, “My Dom liked it rough but I got hurt on a mission...I don’t think I can take that right now.”

“Trust me, taking it slow with someone as gorgeous as you will not be a hardship.” Jonathan said with a smile setting his glass to the side. “Safe word?”

“Stop.”

“Easy enough. Do you enjoy biting or marks?”

“That’s probably a trigger now.” Clint said flatly, fighting off a shudder.

“I’m open to just about everything as long as you don’t break the skin, myself. What do you want from tonight?”

“Beyond getting laid?” He asked with a snort, “Kissing, sex.”

“Would you be okay with being held?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I give you a hug, now?” Jonathan asked closing the distance between them.

“Yeah” Clint murmured after a breath, stepping forward to meet the man so he wasn’t backed against anything.

The hug was firm and warm. Clint let himself relax into it slowly as Jonathan stroked and kneaded his lower back and shoulders. He slowly wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s hips and let his head rest on the taller man’s shoulder.

“How do you want this? Do you want to talk for a while or move to the bed?”

“We can move to the bed. As long as we take it slow I should be okay.”

“Alright.” Jonathan murmured softly, pressing a kiss to Clint’s temple before pulling away and taking his hand. He pulled Clint gently to the bed, stopping a moment to remove his dress shirt, leaving the white tank top he wore under it.

They settled into the large bed facing each other. Slowly Jonathan pulled him into a kiss. They traded gentle kisses and slow touches for several minutes before he tugged Clint closer, tangling their legs together.

Clint had to keep reminding himself that he was allowed to touch, allowed to make noise if he wanted. He was allowed to gasp and shiver as Jonathan tweaked one nipple. He was allowed to thrust his tongue along the other man’s and moan as he slipped a leg tight against his balls.

They were both panting when Jonathan pulled back and pulled off his undershirt. Clint shifted onto his back to watch as he shed everything except his boxers. He reached out and rubbed lightly against where Clint’s length was tenting his pants.

“Want me to give this a bit more room?” he asked, tugging lightly at the edge of his pants.

“Yeah, yeah.” Clint muttered, shivering as his pants were unzipped.

He raised his hips to help slid them off but was surprised that he left Clint’s boxers on. Jonathan crawled back into bed and tugged at Clint until he was draped across the taller man. Clint let himself explore, stroking and sucking at the other man’s nipples while touching every bit of skin he could reach. Jonathan moaned arching against him.

“How, how do you want to do this?” Jonathan asked, running a hand through Clint’s hair as he nibbled at his neck. “Do you want me to suck you off and then fuck you or do you want to wait to cum? Could you cum twice tonight?”

“Yeah, if you gave me a bit I could go twice.” Clint groaned softly as he melted against the long body under him fighting against the urge to rut. “Need to cum, want to but I can wait. Fuck.”

Clint groaned as Jonathan pressed soft sucking kisses to his neck, pinching his nipples through his tee-shirt before sliding down his body in one long hot drag of skin. He mouthed at his cloth covered cock for several moments seeming to delight in watching Clint writhing under him. He slid between Clint’s knees and pressed a kiss to his inner thigh.

“Can I take off the boxers? I want to prep you.”

“Yeah, Fuck. Need something in me.” Clint groaned shifting and wrestling out of the material, he tried to ignore the fact that he was exposing some of his scars in the process.

Jonathan grabbed a bottle of lube and a strip of condoms from his bag before stripping off his own boxers and leaning forward to draw Clint into another long filthy kiss. Breaking away he slid back between Clint’s legs, mouthing softly at his stomach and hips as he opened the lube and slicked his fingers.

“Cum whenever you want, beautiful.”

***

Clint gave Jonathan a lazy grin the next morning as they both got dressed. His entire body was sore but he hadn’t been this relaxed in months. Jonathan stepped forward and pulled him into one last deep kiss before he gathered up his bag.

“You’re going to make someone an amazing partner, Clint. Feel free to ask for me if you want another night out.”

“Thanks, Jonathan. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Clint pulled out his phone once Jonathan was out the door. It was still early and he wanted to catch Natasha before she hit the gym. He knew he had no chance in hell of hiding his night out from her so he might as well spill before they sparred. Sending off a text he finished packing his bag and went to check out.

Forty five minutes later he was changed into his gym clothes and heading out to meet Natasha. The tower gym still had the best training room for sparring so they had agreed to meet at the tower and have breakfast with the team afterwards.

“Good night?” Natasha asked with a knowing smirk, eyes running along his body analyzing god knows what tells.

“Really good.” Clint said with a shameless grin.

“No hickies at least.” she said with a sniff.

“No marks at all.” he confirmed finishing wrapping his hands.

“Professional?”

“From the service.”

“Ah.”

The fell silent as they fought. Only the smack of hands and feet on mats and or flesh filling the room. They finally broke apart when an alarm on his phone went off. Bowing to each other with a sweaty grin they parted to get cleaned up. Fifteen minutes later they met at the elevator headed for the common level.

“Are Bruce and Tony up yet, Jarvis?” Clint asked, shouldering his bag and moving to stretch his back.

“They are on their way to the kitchen now, Agent Barton. The food was just delivered.”

“Thanks, Jarvis.” He said shifting to stretch his neck.

“You need a massage.” Natasha said with a grimace as bones cracked with the motion.

“You offering?”

“Not unless you’re offering for me to get one as well.”

“Spa day?”

“We still have a meeting with Fury after breakfast.”

“After, if the world’s not ending?”

“Only if you let me get your nails done.”

“Deal.” Clint said with a grin ducking out of the elevator, he could deal with purple toes for a week if he got to spend the day with his friend.

“What, you don’t call, you don’t write? I tell you give a man a posh flat in a gorgeous mansion and suddenly he just does not have time for the little people.” Tony said with a dramatic sniff as he and Bruce laid out plates and silverware.

“So sorry our meals keep getting delayed, Stark. I thought you had people for that?”

“Good help is so hard to find.”

“You’re looking better today, Clint. Had a good night?” Bruce asked passing out plates and mugs to everyone.

“Great night. Thanks, Bruce.” Clint said heaping a plate with blueberry pancakes and butter.

“I thought we were promised waffles, Stark?” Natasha asked eying the spread like it was poisoned.

“Two tins to your left.”

“Thank you. Good morning Bruce.”

“Morning Natasha. Coffee?”

“Thank you.”

“Now that all the politeness is out of the way, do we need to beat up Steve for you or has Natasha called dibs?” Tony asked, taking a long gulp of coffee.

“Tony.” Bruce sighed while Clint just laughed.

“Sorry, guys. I’m still reserving that right for myself. I probably should talk to him after the meeting anyway. Do you know what the meeting’s about? The rumor mill at Shield for once is coming up dry.”

“Not for lack of looking.” Tony said, picking at a tater tot. “I thought we ordered hash browns?”

“One pan over.”

“Ah.”

“I do want to get your lawyers to review the contracts from Shield. I sent Sitwell a message to forward them to you once they’re done.”

“Good, I’ll get Pepper and the lawyers reviewing it as soon as it hits the servers.”

“Thanks. I was wondering something, Tony. Did you read our files from Shield yet?”

“Skimmed more than read, why?”

“Did Sitwell ever explain the code name system?”

“No, what exactly are you saying?”  
“The file you had was only for Hawkeye, right?”

“Yeah. I thought it was rather thin for you having worked ten years at Shield but I figured the rest is classified,”

“Kind of. We use a variety of code names in our work. When you work on a mission only your code name or alias is attached to the file. That file never gets hooked back to Hawkeye or Clint Barton. Only Fury has the full lists of everyone’s aliases and who worked on what.”

“None of us were given your full files then.”  
“I doubt it. Only Hawkeye was slated for the Avengers, not any of my other aliases. Probably why Steve had a bug up his butt about me. If he hasn’t seen the full files he thinks we don’t really do much for Shield.”

“I wanted to talk to Fury about this anyway. It only takes a few cell phone photos during a battle to destroy our chances at undercover work or blow old aliases wide open.” Natasha said, getting up and putting her plate in the sink before starting another pot of coffee.

“Are you thinking masks?” Clint asked, picking at the remains of his pancakes.

“It couldn’t hurt. If we want to keep doing work on both teams we’re going to need some way to separate ourselves from our Shield aliases.”

“I wanted to ask you both about uniforms for the team anyway. Would you be open to a redesign? I have some new fabrics SI has been developing that could mean less chance of injuries and they’re mostly bullet proof.”

“Mostly?”  
“Point blank range can still penetrate but anything from farther away will just bruise.”

“Mock something up and let us try it out. Our main concern is range of motion during a fight.”

“Yeah, you two are kind of scarily flexible in a fight. Oh, I also wanted to work on your grappling arrow. That landing during the battle looked like it hurt.”

“How’d you get footage of that?” Clint asked, gathering up several plates and taking them to the sink.

“I’ve had Jarvis scanning the net and local surveillance systems around town for footage of the battle. I don’t know if Shield had a hand in it or not but there isn’t a non-blurry shot of your faces anywhere that I can find.”

“Good, that means most of our aliases are covered unless it’s someone who knows us very well. You know Fury is going to make you shelve the bow on missions again for a while.” Natasha put in handing him a Gatorade which he dropped into his gym bag for later. This was why she was his sister he thought with a grin.

“Yeah, I normally have to anyway. It’s too much of a calling card.”

“So most of your missions you’re working without a bow?”

“Yeah. I prefer the bow but I’m just as accurate with pretty much anything you hand me.”

“Rifle?”  
“Or hand guns depending on the mission.”

“Special modifications?”

“Not normally but it depends on the mission requirements.”  
“Guys can we not talk weapons at the breakfast table?”

“Sorry, Bruce.” Clint said, filling the sink with water and adding a squirt of soap. Someone would get the dishes later.

“Not to bring up another bad topic but where did Steve disappear to, exactly?” Bruce asked hesitantly.

“He stayed on base last night. Something about being closer for the meeting today.” Natasha said, picking up her bag and glancing at the clock like it would prompt the others to hurry up.

“And further away from us?” Clint asked with a sigh.

“It was more implied than anything.”

“Right. I guess I’ll corner him after the meeting. We need to get everything out in the air before I wind up decking him.” Clint said with a sigh, “Pretty sure Fury would put me in solitary if I manage to break his team.”

“Hey, no team is broken. We’re fine, it’s Captain Stick up His Butt that has the issues. We talk him into removing said stick and we should be golden.”

“Tony…”

“What?”

“Come on guys. We might as well head out.” Clint said suppressing a laugh.

The ride to base was filled with Tony babbling science nonstop at Bruce. Clint and Natasha were happy to simply sit quietly next to each other and watch Bruce occasionally try to redirect Tony into a saner direction before simply nodding along in agreement for the last thirty minutes of the ride.

The meeting was in a large conference room a few doors away from Fury’s office. Clint had hoped that he could talk to Rogers before the meeting started but he didn’t arrive until seconds before Fury stepped in. Fury raised an eyebrow as Rogers slid into a seat by the door but made his way to the podium without a word.

“During the heat of battle decisions can be made of the good of many no matter the cost to the few. During the Battle of New York I used the death of a friend and fellow soldier to push the Avengers to unite and finish the battle. While I do not regret making that call I am relieved to be proven wrong.”

“If you are saying what I think you are saying we’re going to have a serious issue here.” Tony snapped, pushing away from the table.

“Everyone just stay calm. We…” Steve started, standing next to his chair.

“No, no! You do not have a say in this. If you mean what I think you mean then I am seriously done with you, Fury. You cannot keep lying to us and hope we trundle along after you like lost puppies.” Tony snapped.

“Tony.” Bruce interrupted, pushing his chair away and slowly standing.

“You okay, Bruce? Need a breather or someone to punch? Fury’s about to volunteer.”

“I just want to know why you kept it a secret? His team should have known, hell, we should have known the second the battle was over. Not months later!”

“Exactly!” Tony snapped, all but vibrating on the spot.

Clint was frozen in his seat. Natasha stood, taking a fighting stance a bit away from the table and Clint forced his wooden legs to follow. Only one person had been used to push the other Avengers into the fight. There was only one person he should have heard about surviving once the battle was over and his evaluations were complete.

“Before this gets any more violent perhaps our guest should come in.” Fury said, gesturing like a stage man revealing the woman whole at the end of his act.

Clint stepped back without a thought, putting Natasha between him and whatever was coming through the door. His heart was trying to rabbit out of his chest. He watched the suited figure enter the room unaware of the low whine of sound leaving his throat.

Clint listened to Coulson give some trite line about his death being greatly exaggerated before the words stopped making sense. He couldn’t do this. Turning, he bolted for the door. Rogers stepped forward to block his path and Clint took him down without a thought leaving him gasping and bleeding on the floor as he ran.

“Natasha.” Coulson said, looking at the empty door and Steve on the ground with a frown.

“We will talk once I make sure he’s safe.” She snapped, snatching up the bag Clint had abandoned.

“Of course.” Coulson said with a sigh. No one was shocked more than Phil when Bruce marched up and slapped him hard across the face.

“Did you know that Clint was planning to propose to you? Did you?”

“No, I…”

“You left the man you had been in a relationship with for eight years to mourn you for months! Months where the only thing keeping him alive was a stupid set of rules you gave him forbidding him to die!”

“He was doing well. The reports…”

“So you were willing to watch over him, watch as his entire world fell apart, and were willing to do nothing?”

“If I may gentlemen. For the first month we weren’t sure Agent Coulson was even going to survive. He’s been in rehab for the last two months and was just released this week.”

“If I’d been on the table the second I woke up from surgery I would have been dialing Pepper. Coming from me this is rather ridiculous but you seriously don’t understand relationships. Whatever hand waving you’re pulling here with Fury, both of you can kiss my ass. I don’t want either or you setting foot into the tower until Agent Barton Okays it.” Tony snarled, “Come on Bruce, I think it’s time we went home. Steve you’re welcome to join us or we can drop you at medical if you need it.”

“I might need the medical.” Steve said, letting the two men help him up. “I’m pretty sure he broke my arm.”

“Considering arms aren’t supposed to bend like that I would agree. Come on, Spangles. We need to talk any way. Still think Clint’s too human to be on a team of Super Heroes?”

Tony asked as they helped Steve limp out of the conference room.


	11. Repercussions

“Do you need medical, Phil?” Fury asked once it became clear that the other man wasn’t going to move.

“What?” Phil asked blankly, blinking up at Fury from where he was standing.

“You’re holding your chest. Please tell me you didn’t tear out your stitches again because the un-hulked Banner slapped you.” Fury said, pulling out a chair and nudging the other man into it.

“I told you this was not going to go over well.” Phil said, eyes still on the doorway Clint had bolted through.

“You’re the one who said that not telling them and having it pop up on YouTube or something would be worse.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”  
“Too late.” Fury said with a snort, “You’re the one who decided to put off telling everyone while you healed, Phil. Time to deal with the fall out. Preferably before we finish outfitting the bus and getting your new team together.”

“Right.” He said with a nod, tugging at his suit as he pulled himself together.

“I didn’t think you and Barton were that serious?”

“I didn’t think we were. He needed structure and I gave it to him.” Phil said, smoothing down his tie.

“Eight years is a long time to commit to a person, Phil.”

“It wasn’t like that. It was convenient for both of us.”

“Cheese, we have fraternization rules for scenarios exactly like this. If you’ve been in a relationship with your asset and I find out you abused that asset or your position of power over him there are going to be consequences.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It may have started out as a convenience but the look on that man’s face was someone having a lover ripping his heart out, Phil. It wasn’t convenient for him. Not at all.”

“I’ll get it sorted.”

“Right, well, good luck with that. Don’t break my team in the process.”

“Nick,”

“What, Phil? There was no scenario where this turned out good for everyone. This way they can hate you from a distance while you are working with your new team.”

“They’re going to hate you as well, Director.”

“Frankly, Coulson, I don’t give a damn. You have one week to wrap this up and then you’re in the wind.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Natasha cursed softly as she surveyed the empty corridor. Clint had always been the better of the pair at going to ground. She jogged to the nearest security room and commandeered a station, tracking him through the surveillance system. She watched as he checked out his bike from the garage and took off.

Luckily he didn’t seem to be going out of his way to evade detection. He did keep his face away from the cameras and took a convoluted route to his destination but she thought that might have just been ingrained training. She was surprised he went to a rather nice hotel instead of one of their normal bolt holes.

A text message popped up on her phone from Stark letting her know that Clint had just checked in to a hotel under one of his more well-known Shield aliases. Clint might be needing some space but he definitely wasn’t hiding if Stark was able to find him that fast. Natasha checked out a nondescript Shield car and headed into town, she had a few stops to make before she made it to the hotel.

An hour later, Clint opened the door and silently gestured her in. She watched for a moment as he shuffled back to bed and curled around a pillow. He’d tossed his boots and jacket into a corner but otherwise was still dressed in his Shield uniform. She quickly unpacked a bag of his clothes and loaded the fridge with the blue Gatorade he loved. She put his bow case under the bed along with a go bag for emergency call outs.

“Can I?” She asked softly, hesitating to break the silence in the room, her Russian accent filtering through her normally iron control.

“Yeah,” Clint said, shifting to the middle of the bed so that she could crawl in next to him.

Natasha spooned behind him and stroked his arm and side as he finally started to cry. Hours later she managed to get him into the shower and changed into a tee shirt and sleep pants. Ordering room service, she turned on some mindless television program to fill the silence until the food arrived. Once the food had been eaten and cleared away they curled back against each other.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” Clint asked almost soundlessly.

“I don’t know, Hawk. You know I never liked you being with him but he kept you stable and gave you something I couldn’t so I let it be.”

“Why tell us now? What’s Fury planning? He knows that the team is going to hate him for this.”

“He’s pushing the team away from Shield for some reason.” Natasha said with a sigh, “I checked the rumor mill before I left. A new strike force and research team is being set up. They’re going to be using the old Air Bus.”

“A mobile command post. Coul... Coulson’d be good to lead.”

“Yes, so he wouldn’t be in town very often. Maybe this was his way of breaking things off since he would never be around?”

“No, he would have said something if it was just that.”

“Hawk… He was your superior officer. He held too much power over you both in your work and in your relationship.”

“Maybe this is him trying to give me some distance.” He said stubbornly. Natasha sighed softly, giving him a gentle hug.

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No.” He whined curling up further as he sobbed. “He didn’t want me, Nat.”

“Then he is a fool.” she told him, her accent thickening the words, betraying how much she was affected by the situation.

Natasha let him sleep until the morning and then bullied him into some sweats. They went down to the hotel gym for a few hours before heading back to the room. Once they were both cleaned up she ordered breakfast and tossed him a Gatorade.

“Drink, you are too pale.”

“Yes, mom.” Clint snarked weakly, fiddling with a knife before he pulled out oil and a whetstone. She let him fiddle until the food arrived and then sat, watching him pick at his food. She made sure he at least got a few bites down and most of the drink.

“I have a mission that leaves tomorrow.” She told him softly, a frown marring her face, “I would pull out but it’s Bolivia.”

“No, Nat. You have to go.” Clint said, scrubbing a hand through his hair. Bolivia was a massive child prostitution ring she had been working on and off for the last year. The take down would be massive, hundreds of lives saved.

“I don’t want you here alone, Hawk. Either we head back to the tower or we find someone to stay with you.”

“Don’t really want to deal with the team yet.” Clint said with a huff.

“What about your Jonathan? You said he was comforting.”

“It was one night, Nat. He’s not my anything.”

“I checked his files. He’s a known dominant and often gets assigned the more unstable clients. He wouldn’t let you harm yourself, Hawk, and I’m worried about you.”

“Call who you want.” Clint said with a sigh, burrowing deeper into the blankets.

“Are you cold?”

“A little.” She went and fetched him another blanket before she moved to the small sitting room to make her calls.

She’d been exchanging texts with Bruce and Tony but she called to let them know that she was leaving. She placed two discrete cameras in each room and had Tony set Jarvis to monitor them. If Clint was harmed while she was gone she would never forgive herself.

The next morning Jonathan arrived after she finished forcing Clint to eat. He took in the man shaped lump in the bed with a small frown. Toeing off his shoes he sat carefully on the side of the bed.

“Clint? Can I lay down with you?” Clint slowly untangled himself from the covers in response. Jonathan slid under the blankets, helping Clint resettle against him, chest to chest.

“What do you need, Clint?” he murmured softly.  
“I don’t know.” Clint sniffled. Jonathan held him while he cried, softly holding him and stroking through his hair.

“Natasha told me that you had a shock.”

“Phil’s not dead. He didn’t tell me. He’s been alive the whole time and no one told me.”

“I’m sorry, Clint. That was cruel of them.”

“I know we weren't exactly out as a couple but Fury knew. He could have said something. I don’t know what to think any more. I would never have let him think I was dead and he…”

“You said he was your Dom before. How long were you together?”

“Eight years.” Clint said, sniffling and scrubbing at his face. “We worked together for over ten years.”

“You said that your Dom liked it rough. Did you like it that way?”

“Sometimes, I liked it sometimes.”

“Did you safe word out when you stopped liking it?”

“Not much. He’d be disappointed in me when I did.”

“Did he respect your safe word at least?”

“Yes, but then I had to leave.”

“He didn’t give you aftercare?”

“Sometimes he did. When we were out of town he’d let me cuddle with him afterwards.”

“But not at home?”

“No, I’d go back to base once I cleaned up.”

“He didn’t let you stay with him?”

“No, he had his apartment but I lived on base.”

“Clint, I know this is hard to hear but that is not a normal Dom/Sub relationship. It’s a Dom’s duty to care for his partner, to ensure their wellbeing and safety.”

“He did take care of me. I had rules and he scheduled out my training and meals.”

“Clint, that’s another form of control. Scheduling or controlling when a sub eats and how they exercise. Did he never give you anything in return? Did he praise you for a job well done at the end of the day?”

“Sometimes.”

“But not often.” Jonathan said.

“No.” Clint said with a sigh, “Natasha never liked me being with Phil but I did so much better with someone keeping an eye on me.”

“Were you in the military before Shield?”

“No.”

“So you’d never been exposed to a structured environment like a military organization would have?”

“No, why would that matter?”

“It sounds like you thrived at Shield. You needed the structure in your life to excel. That doesn’t always mean that you need it in the bedroom as well, Clint. Ignore your relationship for a moment. Would you have done as well in Shield if he hadn’t been your superior?”

“Maybe but it probably would have taken longer. I was a bit of a fuck up at first.”

“But once you got used to Shield you probably would have trained and worked about the same as he made you?”  
“Maybe not as hard. Phil liked to keep his assets busy and pushing their training to the next level. Natasha’s just as bad though, she probably would have pushed me to do the same if Phil wasn’t already. She said he pushed me to hard a lot of the time.”

“So even without him in your life you would have made a name for yourself in Shield?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What about your relationship. Did it help you over the years?”

“What do you mean?” Clint asked, pushing away a bit so he could see the other man’s face.

“Did your Dom make the first move?”

“Yes, he kissed me after a bad mission. We started having sex after missions and after a few months he took me to his apartment. That was the first real scene we did.”

“Did you discuss the rules and what you were comfortable with beforehand?”

“No, he told me what my safe word was and started.” he said with a frown remembering how scared he had been that first night. Fighting with his instincts to not be restrained and his need to prove himself to his new lover.

“Clint, any relationship, especially a dom/sub relationship should never be started without first discussing what each partner wants and needs from the other. By denying you that, he set the relationship up to fail.”

“But, he did care for me.”

“He may have. I don’t know him so I can’t say but a good relationship starts with mutual respect and care. It sounds to me that Phil took the control of every part of your life. He controlled you in your work environment and he took over control of your personal life as well. That kind of control needs to be freely given, not taken.”

“But we did talk sometimes. And he took me on weekend trips when we’d had a bad mission or my nightmares were getting bad.” Clint insisted, needing the other man to understand.

“No relationship is all bad, Clint. You just need to decide if the bad outweighed the good.” Jonathan said with a sigh, tugging the smaller man in for a hug.

“And if I can’t?” Clint asked softly, his words mumbled against Jonathan’s neck.

“Then you need to decide if you can stay in a relationship that’s hurting you.”

“I don’t know. If he cared for me then how could he leave me like that? We buried him!”

“I don’t understand the situation fully but it sounds to me that he is more loyal to Shield then to your relationship if he is willing to hurt you this badly just to keep following orders.”

“I don’t even know if I want to stay with Shield if they are going to lie to me like this. I’d already been looking at my options since one of my teammates is pushing us to commit to the team and stop doing side ops for Shield.”

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to talk about work with but I can say that it sounds like you need to spend some time outside of a relationship for a while. Get some distance and see what you actually enjoy doing.”

“And if I enjoyed our night together?” Clint asked, turning to face the other man.

“Then I would say you are welcome to call me to talk or even if you need a night out but I would not take this any further until you’ve had some time to get comfortable in your own skin again.”

“So if I asked for sex?”

“It would depend on if I agreed that you were in a good place or not. If you needed it then yes, I would have sex with you but as it stands I don’t think you’re in a good place to add sex into the situation.”

“But you’ll at least hold me tonight?”  
“For as long as you need me to.”

“Okay.”

Clint curled against Jonathan, letting himself be held and caressed until he fell asleep. The next morning he woke warm and wrapped around the taller man. He blushed to feel an erection firm against his leg but stopped himself from pulling away until Jonathan started to stir.

“Hmm, morning.” Jonathan murmured into Clint’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before he rolled away. Clint was shaking but he forced himself to tug down Jonathan’s boxers and mouth at his half hard length.

“No, Clint. Red.” He said sharply, pulling Clint back up in the bed but keeping space between them.

“What?” Clint said, blinking at the sudden change.

“Red’s my safe word. It means that I’m not comfortable continuing with a scene.”

“But you're a Dom…”

“And a Dom should know when to stop to prevent themselves from hurting their Sub. You’re not ready for this yet, Clint. It’s my responsibility to know when not to push my Sub. You don’t need this right now.”

“But,”

“No, Clint. If you still want to have sex in the morning we can but not right now.” He said pulling his boxers back up. He tugged Clint until he was curled against his chest, their arms and legs entangled.

“I’m sorry,” Clint sniffed, “I’m such a mess.” he said, wiping at the tears streaking his face.

“No, you’re just still learning yourself again after a trauma. You’re allowed to be a mess. You’re allowed to cry, and scream or shout if you need to.”

“I’m just so tired of being broken.”

“You’re not broken, Clint. You’re healing, it just takes time. I wouldn’t mind having you join me for a shower if you’re interested?” He watched Clint with serious eyes for a long moment while Clint fought to remember to breath.

“You don’t have to but I would like it if you tried.”

“I have a lot of scars.” Clint reminded him, shivering when Jonathan pressed a kiss to a small white scar on his wrist.

“That doesn’t change the beautiful man that I’ve enjoyed spending time with for two days this week. I’m going to take a shower. If you want you can join me or take your shower afterwards. It’s your choice.”

Clint stayed where he was, watching as Jonathan went into the bathroom leaving the door open. Moments later the shower started. Clint glanced down at the tee shirt and boxers he was wearing and tried to picture himself striping and joining the other man in the shower. He hadn’t reacted badly to the scars on his hips and groin so he probably wouldn’t care. Probably.

“Fuck.” Clint pushed himself up and made his way into the bathroom.

He stood outside the shower for a long moment worrying at the hem of his shirt before he was able to tug it off. He stripped of his boxes and tossed everything into a corner. Pulling the frosted glass door open he stepped into the large shower.

Jonathan was facing away from the door, head back and eyes closed under the spray. Clint shivered and forced himself to not rush into the other man’s arms. He stopped just under the spray and ran a hand along Jonathan’s arm.

“There you are.” He said happily. He tugged Clint under the spray and into a deep kiss. “Let me wash you?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Clint let himself be tugged against the other man’s body, wrapping his arms around Jonathan’s chest while he soaped and scrubbed along his body. He let himself be turned and moved as Jonathan needed, letting himself simply enjoy the hot water. Once they were both clean, he was helped out and Jonathan dried him off before steering him toward the bed.

“I need to get dressed.” He said, resisting the hand low on his back.

“Would it be okay if I gave you a massage?”

“You want to?” Clint said uncertainly.

“Yes, I like giving them.”

“How should I…”

“Lay down on the bed on your stomach. I just need to get the oil out of my bag.”

“Naked?”

“Only if you’re comfortable that way. It’s easier with the oil but we can go without it.”

“No, that’s okay.” Clint said, crawling onto the bed and stretching out.

“Would you be okay with me straddling your hips?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Let’s wait on that then. Let me know if anything hurts.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Clint spent the next hour slowly melting into the mattress as Jonathan expertly stretched and kneaded his muscles. He shivered as each mark or scar was pressed with a chaste kiss while Jonathan murmured how beautiful he was. Eventually they lay together simply holding each other until Clint’s stomach decided to complain about how little he’d been eating.

“Come on. Let’s get some food into you. Do you feel up to going out or do you want to stay in?” Jonathan asked, uncurling and moving to the side of the bed.

“Doesn’t matter. Did you want to go out?” Clint asked, pulling himself up to sit at the head of the bed.

“I just thought you might like to get outside. It’s a nice day.”

Clint frowned and glanced around at the dark room. Was it nice outside? He barely knew what time of day it was. All the drapes were tightly shut with only the bedside lamps abating the gloom at all. Pushing himself up he got up and pulled on a robe. Going to the window, he tugged the drapes aside. It was later than he’d thought, almost one in the afternoon. It was a beautiful day with small fluffy clouds moving slowly across the sky.

“Where were you thinking?”  
“I know a good place with rooftop seating. We could have a late lunch and enjoy the sun for a while.”

“Yeah, okay.” he said with a slow nod.

Digging through his bag Clint was glad to see that Natasha had only packed his non-Shield clothes. He didn’t need more reminders right now. Pulling out a dark grey sweater, undershirt, and jeans he got dressed.

“Go shave and finish getting ready.” Jonathan said, pushing him toward the bathroom once he finished tying his boots.

“Who said this wasn’t ready?” Clint asked with a small grin but still went where he was directed.

The evening was nice. They had a slow lunch enjoying the sun before walking to several nearby shops to wander for a few hours until they were ready for dinner. Clint picked up several books that caught his eye while Jonathan bought a few CDs. They had dinner at a steakhouse near the hotel before retiring back to the room to curl together, Clint reading a book while Jonathan watched a documentary.

“I should probably go back to the tower tomorrow.” Clint said with a sigh when they finally were getting ready for bed.

“I can stay if you need me.” Jonathan said softly.

“I know but I need to face everything eventually. Thank you for this, anyway.”

“You’re welcome. Did you have anything you wanted to do tonight?” he asked, standing next to the bed barefoot and bare-chested.

“You said sex was off the table.” Clint said warily, shifting slightly where he was seated on the bed.

“No, I said you were in a bad place at the time and I would not have sex with you while you were there. Today you’ve stepped out of the dark frame of mind you’ve been in. Now I know you won’t be having sex with me out of some sense of duty. I want you to enjoy yourself, Clint. It’s not enjoyable for me if you’re having to force yourself.” he said, tugging Clint against him so he could hold him loosely.

“I don’t understand why you keep pushing me to decide on everything. You’re the dom.” Clint said with a frustrated huff, tightening his hold on the other man for a moment.

“Yes, but in a good dom/sub relationship the sub has all the power. They’re allowing, trusting in their dom to take care of them, to know when they need to be pushed versus when they need to be cared for. The sub also controls the scene, at a word they can end it and it is the dom’s responsibility to respect that right and work with the sub to work past what caused them to safe word. If it is something that cannot be changed then the dom is to respect that limit. That seems to be what you were missing from the relationship with your last dom. Respect.”

“No, Phil respected me. He trusted my judgment on missions, let me change the mission parameters as needed. No other handler let me do that.”

“He respected your abilities at work.” Jonathan said with a nod, laying down next to Clint and tugging him down to curl against him. “But did he do the same outside of work? Did he ask what you wanted out of a scene? Ask if you were okay once the scene was complete?”

“No, he didn’t.” Clint murmured resting his head against the other man’s chest with a sigh.

“Can you at least see that he should have?”

“Kind of, I mean, I kind of consented to most of it.”

“But he never asked and without directly asking and getting a positive answer you never consented to anything you did together.”

“I don’t…”

“Just think about it, Clint. If nothing else it’s something you can ask your Dom eventually.”

“Yeah.” Clint said with a soft sigh, letting himself relax against the other man. The next morning they ate a light breakfast before Jonathan drove Clint to the tower. He left him at the door with a smile.

“Don’t forget you can call if you need me.” Jonathan said, handing Clint a business card.

“Thanks, and thanks for staying with me. I know it’s not your normal gig.”

“I wasn’t getting paid for this, Clint. You’re a great guy who needed a shoulder to lean on and a friend. I mean it, call if you need someone to talk to.”

“Thanks, Jon.” Clint forced out, gripping the strap to his bag in a white knuckled grip.

Jarvis murmured a quiet good morning but he could do nothing more than nod in response, his throat too tight with emotion. Clint had never been as happy as when the elevator dropped him off to an empty common floor. He hurried to the elevator that went to their personal floors and sagged with relief when his floor was vacant as well.

Wiping at his watery eyes, he made his way to his bedroom and let himself collapse onto the oversized bed. His gut was insisting he needed to hide in his closet bed but he knew needed to do better than that. He let himself wallow for an hour before pushing himself up and moving to the sofa in the other room.

“Jarvis?” Clint called out hesitantly once he was seated.

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“Where’s the rest of the team today?”

“Dr. Banner and Sir are working in the lab today. Captain Rogers is in the firing range. Agent Romanov is currently out of the building.”

“Yeah, she had an out of country mission. It’s probably going to take a week or two to wrap up at the earliest.” he said with a sigh, curling in around a throw pillow. “Can you let Tony, Bruce, and Rogers know that I’m back and would like to talk to them later today?”

“Dr. Banner and Sir would like to invite you to lunch later today and Captain Rogers is willing to meet with you at your convenience.”

“Tell Tony and Bruce I’d be fine with lunch, just let me know when they are ready. Rogers can come up whenever he’s ready.” Clint said.

He forced himself up and out of the couch. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a drink, settling on the couch to read while he waited on Rogers. He doubted he would have long to wait. Ten pages into the book, Jarvis announced that Rogers was at the door.

“Let him in, Jarvis.” Clint said suppressing a sigh as he stuck a receipt into his book to mark his place before setting it to the side.

Rogers came looking the same as always if perhaps a bit guiltier. His bruises and broken bones must have healed in the last two days. He stuttered to a stop a few feet from the couch seeming unsure of his welcome.

“Take a seat, Rogers. We need to talk.” Clint said with a sigh. He was exhausted with the entire situation and just didn’t have the energy to be mad at the super soldier.

“I owe you an apology, Clint.” Steve said as he slowly took one of the chairs next to the couch. “I didn’t have all the information I should have had. Tony got everyone’s full files from Shield and went over the high points with us. He offered to do the same for you if you want.”

“I’ve already read the files for the team, Rogers. I read them when Coulson was working on the proposal with Director Fury.”

“Please call me Steve.” He said with an earnest look, “Bruce said you were in a relationship with Agent Coulson?”

“Yes, for eight years.” Clint said, fighting to keep his face impassive, this was not what he’d been expecting to talk about.

“You didn’t know he was alive, did you?”

“No.”

“So you’ve been mourning him and none of us knew.” Steve said, watching as Clint curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his knees.

“And getting used to living without him. I’m a mess but I thought I was starting to get better before Ph...before he came back.”

“But I didn’t make it easy for you, constantly pushing you to make a decision about Shield. I’m sorry about that. I would have handled things differently if I’d known how much stress you were under.” Steve said with a grimace, “I thought you were being moody and distant because Shield was pressuring you to inform on the team.”

“Fury wouldn’t have done that. He might ask our opinion about a situation but we don’t report to him on politics within Shield. Things like that would be reported to our handler, Sitwell probably.” Clint said with a snort, “I gave ten years of my life to Shield and they let me think the partner I’d been with for eight years was dead. I’m not sure I can forgive that, Steve.”

“So you might leave Shield?”

“I think I might just do contract work with them for a while, see how it goes.” Clint said, rubbing one thumb over the scars littering his knuckles. “Shield was the first good place I managed to work for, Steve. They’ve been my home for ten years. I’m not sure I can write off the entire organization because two of them are assholes. We’re going to need someone to liaise with them anyway. We need the information and resources they have if we get called out again.”

“We do, but I’d like to operate outside of their chain of command so that if Fury or another agent suggests something we as a team disagree with we can work around them if we have to.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Clint said, with a sigh, he was so damn tired. “We good?”

“We’re good, at least I hope so. Have you been doing okay? No more seizures?”

“No, I’m good as can be right now. Just worn out and tired of all this shit.”

“Want to spar for a bit before lunch?”

“Nah, I’ll catch you tomorrow on that. I think I’m going to do a few chores around the place. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yeah, see you then.” Clint said, sighing softly as the door clicked shut.

His entire world had been turned on its head all over again and he was left picking up the pieces once again. At least the team seemed to be working through their issues. If he could count on them backing him he might get through this in the end.

***

“Come in and have a seat, Agent Coulson. This is going to take a while.” Fury said gesturing him to take the chair in front of his desk.

“Something the matter, Director?” Coulson asked.

“I need to ask you some questions about your relationship with Agent Barton, Phil. I need you to be honest with me.”

“Alright.” He said, shifting slightly in his seat, he’d known this was bound to be coming.

“Why did you start your relationship with Agent Barton?” Fury asked his face a blank mask as he paged through a file on his desk.

“I’d been Agent Barton’s handler for over a year. He was starting to excel in his work and showing signs that he would exceed all expectations for his abilities. After several bad missions we had sex. It was more stress relief for both of us than anything. We continued to see each other after missions were completed.”

“And when exactly did you start beating him?”

“I never beat Agent Barton.”

“I have multiple medical reports that would disagree with you, Agent Coulson. After several missions medical reported that Agent Barton exhibited bruising typical with being restrained by the wrists or ankles and had lash marks in various locations.” Fury watched him with a tired expression, waiting for a response.

“Agent Barton and I occasionally used restraints when we were together.” Phil said, adjusting his tie a bit looser.

“And the lash marks?” Fury asked raising one eyebrow.

“You agreed with me when Barton signed as a member of my team that the man needed structure in his life.” Phil said in a rush, trying not to wince as he wiped his palms surreptitiously against his pants.

“And you decided to extend this structure to his personal life as well?” Fury asked his tone mild.  
“Exactly. We needed a way to bind Barton to Shield. You know as well as I do that Agents have no time for a personal life. With him committed to both Shield and myself on all levels I guaranteed that he would continue to be an asset with Shield. Under my command he became the best Agent Shield has seen in years.”

“Did he ever ask to be lashed?”

“Sir? He never refused any of his punishments.”

“We will come back to the punishments, Phil. He may have never refused but did you ask him if he wanted to be punished?”

“Barton trusted me to know what was best for him.”

“Stop right there. Agent Barton trusted you. He trusted you with his life. You held a position of seniority over him and you never gave him the option to back out.”

“He had a safe word he could use in every encounter.”

“Did you encourage him to use it? Did you talk to him to see if he wanted to continue when he was in pain?”

“No, however he always said he was ready for the next part when asked.”

“Did he ever safe word out?”

“A few times in the beginning of our relationship.”

“And did you find out why he had used his safe word?

“He said he wasn’t prepared at first, he would do better next time. He always did.”

“So if I brought Agent Barton in here today he would swear to me that you were in a safe and consensual relationship?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did Agent Barton ever ask to be punished or hurt in any way?”  
“No, but he never refused any act I offered.”

“So he never indicated he liked the...punishments, you were giving him?”

“No, sir, however,”  
“Agent Coulson. I want a detailed report of every punishment you forced on Agent Barton. I want the reasons for each punishment no matter how small listed beside each punishment and estimated date for each incident. I already know you controlled his workout schedule as well, so I want a list of every time a schedule change was caused by a punishment as well.”

“Sir, we’ve been together for eight years…”

“Then you better get busy. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” Phil said with a small nod. He slowly stood and made his way out of the office. Where had things went so wrong?

“Well, sir? That wasn’t as bad as we feared at least.” A.D. Hill said, pushing open a hidden panel and stepping out into the office.

“I want a full inquiry done on every asset or agent that has ever served under Coulson. I believe this to be an isolated incident but we need to be absolutely certain.”  
“Yes, sir. Do you think Agent Romanov…”

“No, thankfully she would have killed him if he so much as lifted a finger toward her. She is close to Barton however and might be able to file in some details.”  
“I just don’t understand how he can be so blind. Barton thought the man bled sunshine, for god’s sake, and Coulson is just using him to make sure he stays with Shield?”

“It certainly appears that way. Coulson always put the job first. If he’s willing to go this far however we might need to relocate him to a different department. He’s got too much power over the assets and agents in his current position if he sees them as completely expendable.”

“He’s already scheduled to start with his new team next week. Do we need to push that farther out?”

“Agent May is on his team, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have her come see me later today. If she agrees to monitor Coulson we will let the team continue on the current time table. If he steps out of line in even the smallest way he’ll be suspended to desk duty for the next six months while we review every mission and case he’s ever worked on.”

“I’ll schedule it after your two o’clock. What about the Avengers?”

“For now I’m willing to wait and see if they settle back down on their own. Has Stark backed off on his attempts to hack our servers?”

“He has however he has access every file attached to both Barton and Romanov’s files, along with everything we have on Dr. Banner and Rogers.”

“That was expected. Is he looking anywhere else?”

“Not that we are able to track. IT thinks that he has left a worm keyed to specific keywords but they are still investigating.”

“Tell them if they do find it to document everything they can but let it run for now. If Stark thinks he has the upper hand he hopefully won’t dig any deeper.”


	12. Evidence

“Thank you for coming in, Agent Romanov.” A.D. Hill said gesturing for her to take a seat. “There are a few things that Director Fury has asked me to review.”

“You mean Agent Coulson’s behavior.”

“Yes. As an organization we frown on having someone in a position of power being in a relationship with someone who is their direct subordinate. Even in more traditional relationships there is often evidence of abuse of power or favoritism to one or both parties. We are doing an inquiry into Agent Coulson and Barton’s relationship and how it may have impacted their work and the missions or cases they worked.”

“Both Agent Coulson and Barton were extremely professional while away from base on missions. The only mission I am aware of that they took...liberties with was in France two years ago when the mission was scrubbed but they were stuck in a remote part of the country for several days.”

“So Agent Coulson never unduly punished or favored Agent Barton while on missions away from base?”

“Not that I am aware of, however while they were both on base was a different situation.”

“How did Agent Coulson treat Agent Barton when they were both on base?”

“You’re aware that they had a non-traditional relationship? Coulson was Clint’s dominant. He controlled everything Clint did while they were together.”

“Can you give me some examples?”

“He would leave messages for Clint to be prepped and waiting for him on random days when neither of them were preparing for a mission. The slightest deviation from instructions, no matter the cause, would result in lashes from a flogger or whip.”

“Did Barton ever say or act like he did not enjoy Coulson’s attentions?”

“Yes, but Clint was so attention starved that I doubt he would have ever broken it off, no matter how rough Coulson was with him.”

“Would you say that Coulson took advantage of Agent Barton?”

“Yes. Clint’s world revolved around that man, he would have taken any beating, done any act demanded of him if it meant that he got occasional scraps of affection.”

“Would you be willing to list out instances where you believed Agent Coulson abused Agent Barton or used his position’s power to do so?”

“I already have.” Natasha said simply, pulling a memory stick out and handing it to Hill.

“Thank you, Agent Romanov.”

“Will Coulson be punished for his actions?”  
“If we can prove that he has used his position to abuse another agent he will at the very least be demoted and moved to a position where he will have no similar opportunities to do so. If we discover he did so to more than just Agent Barton he will be facing jail time and will be stripped of his rank in Shield, if not outright fired. That could still be an option if Agent Barton decides to press charges.”

“I don’t think Clint will press charges. He sees himself at fault somehow.”

“From everything I can see, Agent Romanov, the last person at fault here is Barton. Agent Coulson will be taking the full burden of blame and its deserved punishment if I have anything to say about it.”

“Good.”

“Anything else you wish to discuss, Agent?”  
“No, Ma’am.”

“Dismissed.” Hill said inserting the thumb drive and starting to open the files contained. After flipping through the video files, mission documents, and audio recordings that spanned eight years with a sense of disbelief, she pressed a button on her phone.

“Hill.” Director Fury said once the line connected, “Your meeting with Romanov went well I take it?”

“She just handed us enough intel to bury Coulson in the Icebox for the rest of his life. I’m saving everything to your secure drive, sir.”

“Sounds like we need to set up a meeting. I’ll send you the details once everything is set.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Clint headed to dinner in his most worn out jeans, boots, and hoodie. He slumped in the elevator trying to muster up the energy deal with his super hero roommates. He was exhausted and was absently hoping that he could skip out of the interrogation that was sure to happen now that he was back in the tower.

“Hey, Katniss. Come on in. We ordered out but no one could decide so it’s a bit of a mixed buffet thing going on.” Tony called out gesturing to the mass of boxes and tins covering the long bar.

“What would you like to drink?” Bruce asked juggling his cup of tea and a large plate on his way to the table.

“Coffee?” Clint asked, picking up a plate and looking at the random options available.

There was everything from Thai, Mexican, Pizza, Chinese, Sushi, and sub sandwiches. He took a scoop of the first few before him and accepted the large cup of coffee from Tony with heartfelt thanks. Taking his plate to the table he let the other talk about random things as he ate.

“So, Clint…” Tony started, only to trail off leaving Clint blinking at him.

“What?”

“Listen, I know you didn’t want us to get involved with everything going on but I thought you might want to know exactly what’s going on with Shield.”

“You hacked them?” Clint asked setting down his fork and leaning back so he could see the entire team.   
“Never really stopped,” Tony said with smirk. “I left a bug in the system that infiltrated and left a copy of itself in every database it encountered. Most of the data is useless for me without context so I let it sit but with our dearly departed friend’s rise from the grave I figured I’d see what I could find.”

“And?”  
“He really did only wake up about six weeks ago. He’s been in rehab since then and only got on base a few days before we saw him. Before that he was in some research station called ‘Tahiti’ of all places.”

“It’s where the unrecoverable injuries get sent. They use experimental technology and sometimes you get lucky. There’s a clause for it in all agent’s contracts.”

“You really agreed to let them experiment on you?”

“I doubt most of the recruits read that far in but I asked what was required since I’d heard rumors while I was a merc. They only send you if you’re almost brain dead or comatose with a less than twenty percent chance of survival.”

“Yikes. So Agent Agent was on his death bed? And then several months later is back in the game after only six weeks of rehab.”

“Looks like it.” Clint said with a huff, still pissed at his former partner. Had they even been partners? Fuck buddies? Ugh.

“Listen, I also found a lot of activity in every mission that Coulson led or even just had an active role in. It looks like Shield is doing a full inquiry into everything Coulson ever worked on.”

“It makes sense.” Bruce said, sipping at his tea. “If he was willing to treat Clint like he did, what if he did it to other agents? They probably have to be sure.”

That just made Clint shudder. What if they hadn’t been exclusive? What if Coulson had someone at every base he worked at who went onto his knees for him? Coulson had never been his, he might have given every fiber of himself to the man but he’d never gotten anything back in return.

“Can we talk about something else?” Clint asked in desperation, unconsciously curling in on himself as the ache in his chest intensified.

“What are your plan for the rest of the week, Clint? I heard Natasha is back on base debriefing.” Steve asked, wanting to help clear the pained expression from the archer’s face.

“Really? Good, she normally texts me once she gets out of debrief.”

“That was a short mission for her. Don’t her solo missions run longer?”  
“Normally but this was just the final take down and cleanup. She probably requested to leave once the cleanup started.”

“It’ll be nice to have the entire team in one place for a while. Maybe we can run a few training scenarios sometime next week.”

“Might be better just to spar together a bit so we can get used to working around each other.” Clint said, “Plus, we’re all kind of ready for a bit of a break.”

“It would make sense to ease back into things.” Bruce agreed, “Speaking of which, I need to get back to my lab. Thank you for a wonderful meal, everyone.”

“Oh, don’t go, Bruce. We were going to reinstate movie night!”

“Honestly, Tony. I’m kind of tired as well. I’ll see everyone in the morning.” Steve said following Bruce to the elevator.

“Going to bail on me, Legolas?”

“Yeah, I kind of wore out myself. I’ll see you guy tomorrow.”

“Well, Jarvis. It looks like it’s you and me tonight doing what we always do.”

“What would that be, sir?”

“Trying to take over the world!”

“Of course, sir.” Jarvis said sounding resigned.


	13. Confrontations

Clint went up to his rooms trying now to sigh in relief, he was just not up to discussing his sex life with his team mates. Heck, he’d probably never be up to discussing anyone’s sex life with his team mates. Except maybe with Natasha, she’d force him to talk if she thought he needed to whether or not he actually wanted to.

Stripping, he stepped into the shower letting the hot water pound against back and neck. Now that he had gotten some distance he was starting to agree that he had been used if not abused in his relationship with Coulson. He’d given himself completely to the other man and he had abused that trust by not being a caring partner.

Shaking himself out of his reverie Clint got and quickly dried off before pulling a pair of black boxers on. Digging though his bedside table he extracted the bottle of sleeping pills with a sigh. He knew he needed the sleep but he hated how out of it they left him feeling.

“Jarvis?”

“Yes, Agent Barton?”  
“Can you lock down my floor until tomorrow morning? I don’t want anyone able to get in while I’m drugged.”

“May I request that you wear the medical sensors while the floor is locked?”

“Yeah, that’s fine and the team can override it if there’s a call out, I just don’t want someone coming in while I’m drugged. It normally takes a lot to wake me up when I take something.” Clint said, going to the bathroom to get the two small sensor pads and sticking them on.

“Initiating lock down. I will inform the team of your intentions if anyone asks but won’t notify the others unless there is a medical emergency.”

“Thanks, Jarvis. Everything reading good?”

“Perfect. Have a good night, Agent Barton.”

“You too, Jarvis.” Clint said with a yawn, turning off the lights and crawling into bed. He was asleep in moments.

Clint jerked awake blinking dazedly at the ceiling for several long moments. The sleeping pills were already trying to pull him back under but something felt off. He glanced around the room but didn’t see anything. Clumsily he rolled over and turned on the bedside lamp, wincing at the sudden glow.

“Jarvis?” Silence greeted his question. He was about to pull the gun strapped to the back of the headboard when something moved in his bedroom doorway. He pulled the closer knife instead flipping it so he could throw if needed.

“It’s me. I just want to talk.” a voice said, even as a suited figure stepped farther into the room.

“Phil. What’re you doing here?” Clint said, slumping back into bed with huff.

“I tried to call but your phone was turned off.” Clint blinked at this before glancing at the cell phone. Stark phone, right. Tony had probably blocked the man in an attempt to be a good friend, blowing past all normal personal limits like normal.

“You could’ve scheduled an appointment with Sitwell or come during the day.” Clint pointed out pushing himself up to sit against the headboard and scrubbing a hand through his hair, god he was so freaking tired.

“I needed to speak with you. Shield’s revoked my access and is investigating all the cases we worked together on.”

“They should be, Phil. We kind of lied to them about not being in a relationship.”

“Have you spoken with them yet?”

“No, I have a meeting in two days with Fury.”

“Shield's my life, Clint. I’m not sure what I’m going to do if they demote me.”

“I know.” Clint said with a sigh, watching as Phil took a seat on the corner of the bed. “You always choose Shield over everything, Phil. Maybe that’s part of the problem.”

“I just don’t understand it. I gave them everything and now they’re just going to throw it away.”

“Nick won’t throw you away, Phil. You’re just going to have to earn back their trust like we did when I brought Natasha in.” Clint said a yawn distorting the last few words.

“What about you?”

“What about me, Phil? Am I throwing you away too?” Clint demanded pushing himself out of bed and stalking past the other man and out into the living room. “I never had you, Phil. I gave you everything. Anything you could have wanted or asked for I gave you without a second thought. You lost that when you let me think you were dead.”

“Clint,”

“No. I gave you everything. You could have utterly broken me and I would have let you.” Clint snarled, stalking around the room. “Then you died during an attack that I helped lead. Loki may’ve made me do it but it really doesn’t help keep your head straight when he’s also the one who killed the man you loved either. I was thinking about asking you to marry me, Phil. I thought we were moving toward something permanent after the necklace and piercing. Instead you threw me away like I was only a convenient fuck. Was that all I ever meant to you?”

“I never meant to hurt you, Clint. I thought I was giving both of us something we needed.”

“And what would that be, exactly? What did you think I needed that said I wanted to be whipped and fucked against the wall of your apartment?”

“You never said no. You had a safe word and you never used it.”

“Because I thought you didn’t want me too! The two times I safe worded you acted so disappointed in me. You kept saying how you wanted me to improve myself and excel!”  
“I did, Clint. I saw that you could be amazing if you just pushed yourself. Look at where you are now, a member of the Avengers! A human running with a team of super heroes!”

“That has nothing to do with our relationship. That was Shield.”

“I recruited you! I gave you to Shield!”

“Gave me? So what, I was a toy for you to play with?!”

“It was convenient, Clint, it helped both of us.” Phil insisted stepping into Clint’s path and forcing him to stop.

“Was I the only one, or did you have a guy in every base you worked, Phil? How many did you whip as a job well done after each mission?!” Clint snarled, wrapping his arms around himself to keep himself together.

“None, it was only you.”

“So I was the only one who you thought needed to be dominated.”

“You needed structure in your life. I gave you what you needed.”

“And you just thought adding in a relationship where you got a convenient hole to fuck or beat whenever you had the itch was icing on the cake?”

“You know how hard it is to date outside of Shield, Clint. We both needed an out for stress relief and you needed the structure.”

“That was never what I wanted, Phil. I don’t want that now.” Clint said, wrung out and gripping his arms too tight to keep from lashing out at the man in front of him. “You need to get out.”

“Clint,”

“No, Phil. I never wanted to be that for you. I wanted a real relationship, someone to come home to and you could never give me that. Get out.”

“Please,”

“No. We’re done, Phil. We weren’t ever in a relationship, there’s nothing to fix. Get out.”

“Very well. Good night, Clint.” He said making his way to the elevator. Clint flopped onto the couch watching as Phil hit the call button for the elevator.

“Jarvis?” Clint asked softly. A garbled blast of noise answered him. “Tony’s going to kill you if you’ve injured Jarvis, Coulson.”

“It’s a virus. He should have it out of his systems in an hour.”

“Jarvis.” Clint slurred slightly as dark spots swamped his vision.

“Clint?” Phil called out, turning around but Clint was already gone, swallowed down into the dark.

***

Clint muzzily took in the white wall around him and the antiseptic in his nose. Had he been injured on a mission? No, that wasn’t right. He’d been talking to Phil. No, arguing with him.

“Clint?”

“Hey.” He rasped twisting onto his side to face Natasha.

“Remember where you are this time?”

“Medical. I was talking to Coulson. Think I kicked him out.”

“You did. Then you had a seizure and he had to call the team to get the doctor to your floor. Tony banned him from ever entering the tower again.”

“He left?”

“After Steve broke two doors down and climbed up the elevator shaft to carry you to the medical bay.”

“Steve okay?”

“Bruce may have had to prevent him from punching Coulson.”

“That’s good.”

“Tony punched him anyway.”

“He hurt Jarvis, he’s allowed.”

“True.” Natasha said with a small smile, “How are you, Hawk?”

“Tired. Ready to get back to work.”

“Tony said his lawyers had finished going over the offers from Shield and he has a counter offer for you and the rest of the team if they don’t want to work for Shield anymore.”

“Are you staying?”  
“Contract work only. Steve wants to do more training with Shield and Fury wants me to teach him the ropes. He’ll be listed as a contract worker as well.”

“What are the rumors going around base?”

“Let’s see...The best is that Coulson killed you and he’s being sent to HR as punishment.”

“And the worst?”

“That you’ve been blackmailing Coulson with sex for better mission slots and now that you’re an Avenger you’ve broken up and are already sleeping with Stark and or Captain America.”

“Nice to know Shield is keeping it classy.” he said with a frown. “So my reputation’s shot.”

“No, your reputation is fine. No one who matters believes any of it. I’ve had fifteen different people ask me when you’re coming back to base.”

“Handlers who want me for their missions?”

“Some. Others are agents were worked with over the years who heard you were out on medical leave. Everyone heard about the seizures after the incident with Rogers on base.”

“It’ll be another six weeks before I’ll be able to try and certify again now.”

“Maybe not. Shield docs seem to think it’s the emotional stress you’ve been under causing the seizures. Quick in and out missions should be fine.”

“Huh.” Clint said, glancing at her in disbelief. They fell silent for a while before Natasha tapped him on one wrist to draw his attention.

“You will tell me if you need anything.”

“Always. You're my sister, Nat. I tell you everything.”

“Only because you know I will get it out of you one way or another.”

“Which is why we love you.”

“We?”

“Me, the team, our friends. We.”

“Do I need to kill Coulson for you?”

“No, but I won’t say no to you making his life hell for a few years.”

“Deal.”

“You know, you two are rather scary at times.” Bruce said with a small nervous grin as he stepped into the medical bay.

“Comes with the job, Bruce.” Clint said with a tired smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore, tired, but overall not bad. Have they said when I can get up?”

“The docs will want to check you out one more time but you’re probably free to go after that.”


	14. Conclusion

“Thank you for coming in, Agent Barton.” Fury said, nodding at the chair in front of his desk.

“Last time I checked, I was still an Agent, sir. You ask, we jump.” Clint said, dropping into the indicated chair. Fury at least had the grace to wince slightly at the blunt response.

“Agent Barton, with the inquiry on going into Agent Coulson’s relationship and how it may have affected our agency, I need to ask you some rather personal questions.”

“Yes, sir. Also I want to add that any contract work I do for Shield will have the stipulation that I will not work with Agent Coulson on any mission.”

“So you have decided?”  
“Yes, sir. Agent Coulson decided to break into the tower in an attempt to talk to me. I understand he’d attempted to contact me several times but was blocked from my phone.”

“I’ve already talked to Mr. Stark this morning, Agent, and have been updated on the situation. I can assure you it will not happen again.”

“He damaged Jarvis, Nick. I doubt anyone on the team is going to be quick to forgive.” Clint said flatly.

“I’m aware.” Fury said pausing to look over his agent, “My main concern is if you want to file a complaint about any of these incidents? A lot of the actions we would take depend on whether or not you want to press charges.”

“I want to file a complaint about last night.” Clint said with a huff, wrapping his arms around himself. “He was acting irrational and damaged both my current residence and the relationships I have with the people who live there. I’ll get a restraining order to keep him out of the tower if I have to, Nick.”

“Stark is already looking into legal action to ban Coulson from the building so that shouldn’t be necessary however I won’t stop you from seeking a restraining order if that is what you need.” Fury said with a sigh, “Do you want to press charges or file complaints about his behavior over the last eight years or for specific incidents?”

“No, sir. What we did was consensual even if I didn’t understand at the time how much I was letting him use me.” Clint said blowing out a breath, “It didn’t affect our work and I would like to let his past actions go. If he continues to harass me or the team I will not hesitate to take every legal action I can.”

“Understood, Agent Barton. We do have notes in your medical files about possible abuse however since those would have been cleared by your handler they were brushed aside.” Fury said watching his former asset, “Do you want these notes removed from your file?”

“No, sir. As far as I’m concerned it happened so it can stay in the records.” Clint said with a bitter laugh, “I’m not ashamed of my choices even if in hindsight they were not the best decisions.”

“Are you planning to stay at the tower and working as an Avenger?”

“Yes, sir. I will consider any contract work you can offer in Avenger downtime but I think I need to distance myself from Shield for a while.”

“You will always have a place here if you need it, Agent.”

“Thank you, sir, but we both know I’ve always been more tolerated then welcomed. After the Battle of New York it’s just gotten worse. Everyone knows the WC has an eye on me and are just waiting for the next screw up to have my brain dissected.”

“And you should know that I would never allow them to do that.” Fury pointed out with a frown.

“Yeah, but the rest of the staff don’t. I just think I need some distance.” He repeated with a huff.

“You're welcome to continue your medical and therapy appointment with Shield.”

“Tony want’s us to all to see the doc at the tower and I already got the name of a therapist outside of Shield that he’s used before. I have my first appointment sometime next week.”

“Good, let me know if you need anything, Barton.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s been an honor working with you. I’ll get the paperwork to you tomorrow.”

“See that you do. You’ll have to do a few exit interviews but I’m sure we’ll be in touch with how much Stark winds up in my office.”

“Sir, can I ask, what’s going to happen to Coulson?”

“After his actions last night he’d going to be suspended one month pending psych evals. When he returns to work he will be with a new mobile unit team. He will still be the team lead and handler but will be heavily supervised with restricted access to our systems until the full inquiry into his actions can be completed. Once that is complete he may have other restrictions or demotions however I cannot comment on an open investigation.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Clint said snapping off a perfect solute.

“Dismissed, Agent.” Fury said returning the solute and waiting for the door to close behind his former agent. “Come in, Hill. I know you’re lurking.”

“We just lost one of our best strategists in Shield.” Hill said with a sigh, “Do you think he’ll come back, sir?”

“I think that in the coming months we may need an outside force to respond to crises. Between the Avengers and Coulson’s team we might just make it.”

“If you say so, sir.”

“Leave it for now, Hill.”

“Yes, sir.”

***

Six month later…

Agent Coulson watched with a carefully blank face as the Avengers trooped from their quinjet and moved across the helicarrier, joking and talking to one another. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the blinding smile on Clint’s face.

The archer was all but skipping across the deck to keep up with the long legged asgardian he was talking with. Both were grinning and knowing Clint they were talking about some crazy shot he managed to land during the mission.

Phil knew, even hidden in the shadows by the bus as he was, his two former assets noticed him. Natasha favored him with a single dark glance as she strode across the deck with Captain America at her side. Clint never seemed to look in his direction but he’d always had amazing peripheral vision.

“AC, you coming inside?” Sky asked, wandering over to stand next to him fidgeting.

“In a moment, Skye. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yeah, Fitzsimmons made sure I was set up. Are you waiting on someone?”

“No,” Agent Coulson said, locking down the pang of want. “I’m not waiting on anyone. Come on, let’s get inside so May can start the flight checks.” He said as the Avengers disappeared into the helicarrier.

***

“Are you alright?” Natasha asked softly once the debrief was over and they rest of the team was headed into the break rooms to change.

“It still hurts. I thought for some reason with everything that’s happened I wouldn’t miss him.”

“You loved him, Hawk.”

“And love is for children.”

“Because only children can love with their entire being. You gave yourself to him utterly and he was not worthy. Now he looks at you and sees just how much he lost.”

“Yeah.” Clint said with a huff finishing tying his boots.

“Are you seeing Jonathan tonight?”

“Yeah, he wants to watch an old Hepburn movie.”

“And it’s going well?”

“Yeah, never thought I’d like the whole dating/going slow thing but it’s kind of working for us.”

“Good. I’m glad to see you happy.” She said grabbing up her bag and headed toward the door.

“What about you? Any plans for tonight?”

“And if I said I was crashing your date night for a girls night in?”

“I’d say bring the nail polish and Andes mints.”

“Nine o’clock?”

“Sure. See you then.” he said with a grin watching her walk away.


End file.
